Victim
by XxNeonShadowsxX
Summary: Life is just starting to get back to normal for Wally and Dick...until Cadmus comes back to haunt them. The appearance of a mysterious figure only makes things worse, and the two are left wondering if there is any hope left for them.
1. Nightmares

**A/N **I'm really excited to finally be posting this, guys. Thank you to my awesome beta reader, Sairey13, and thanks to all of my fans who actually encouraged me to write a sequel. ^^

Oh, and Dozen's Day! ;)

**Disclaimer** This goes for the entire fanfiction: I don't own Young Justice. I'm just a fan with a computer.

~Aiva

* * *

Dick's throat was dry and his heart was pounding loudly in his ears. His legs felt unsteady and weak, a sick feeling of dread and fear coursing through him heavily. His panicked blue eyes were locked on the one man he never wanted to see again:

Dr. Anthony Lawrence.

The scientist stared back at him, brown eyes cold and _satisfied, _filled with a sadistic pleasure that sent icy chills down Dick's spine. "You're dead," he whispered, eyes wide and filled with an uncomprehending horror. He was aware that he was shaking, the violent tremors making it difficult to stand. The boy pressed himself against the wall, wishing desperately that he could go through it and get away from this nightmare. "You're _dead," _he repeated, voice growing louder with hysteria. "I saw you die!"

Dr. Anthony Lawrence chuckled. "No, Richard. You saw Hope burn; I am still very much alive. And I want to finish what I started."

Dick was hyperventilating by this point; _this couldn't be happening._ It had been roughly two months since he had escaped Cadmus, and Dick had finally started to feel like his life might be going back to normal…relatively speaking, of course. But this new twist had thrown everything away, turned his life upside down, making it a living nightmare. He was dead! Dick had been so sure…but he had been naïve to believe that everything was over. Because Dick knew better.

This would never be over.

Dr. Anthony Lawrence stepped closer, and Dick looked around wildly for an escape route. Finding none, his heart pounded even faster and he had to fight to hold in a scream. Even the shadows seemed to be reaching out for him by this point, threatening to drag him back to Cadmus. "No," Dick whispered, mouth to dry to say anything more. "No, no, no, no."

"Oh, yes, Richard. I haven't broken you, yet." It didn't take much to hear the amusement in Dr. Anthony Lawrence's voice; he was looking forward to this, and that scared Dick the most. Fingers brushed up against his arm, and Dick couldn't help it anymore.

"BRUCE!" he screamed, desperate for someone, anyone, to come and save him from this. He couldn't go back to Cadmus, he couldn't deal with that again. Fear clouded his senses and thoughts, making them tumble together incoherently. He wasn't aware of much except the raw, animal panic surging through him. "WALLY! BRUCE!" He started calling for anyone, already able to feel the knives piercing his flesh, sending searing flashes of pain through him.

"Please, don't," he sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut as tears trickled down his pale cheeks, stinging his flesh. "No…stop. Bruce," he repeated, gasping. "Wally!" He was scared, absolutely terrified as he was grabbed, strong arms preventing his escape. Only one coherent thought filled his mind.

No one was coming to save him.

* * *

Bruce suppressed the urge to glance at the clock, a muffled groan slipping out. His hands reached up to rub his temples, a headache throbbing against his skull; if there was one thing he hated more than all of the crazed villains that seemed to make up most of Gotham's population, it was paperwork.

Bruce groaned again when he picked up his mug, only to realize his untouched coffee had grown cold from sitting out so long. Exhaustion settled into his mind like a fog, turning his thoughts into a jumbled mess. He picked up the pen, scribbling his signature on the bottom of the paper; at this point, he didn't even care what the document was anymore. Setting the now signed papers aside, he glanced over at the remaining stack. If it weren't for the considerable self-control he had gained by being Batman, he would be slamming his head repeatedly into his desk by now.

Hmm…if only Batman could rid the world of paperwork. Bruce was able to distract himself with that for a few moments before he forced his straying thoughts to return to the matter at hand, despite the hatred he held for it. His navy eyes skimmed over the next paper, barely focusing on the black print. He raised his pen, ready to hastily add his signature to this one too before he was interrupted by something that made his heart leap into his throat.

Dick _screamed, _a sound of absolute terror that ripped through the empty manor hallways. Bruce was running to his room immediately, knocking his chair over in his haste. Not very many things could make his boy scream like that, a cry so fearful that it scared Bruce too. Running up the stairs, Bruce realized the screams were turning into actual names as Dick shouted – _pleaded _– for someone to come save him. There were two names the billionaire picked out; Bruce and Wally.

Bruce flinched internally, analytical mind quickly supplying the reason for why Dick would be calling out for them; it was another nightmare about _that. _It wasn't rare for Dick to have nightmares every so often, especially when he was sick or after a traumatizing event; Cadmus had caused him to have nightmares _every single night _for two weeks. To think that someone had scared Dick that badly…it brought out a protective paternal instinct in Bruce that would let him go to the ends of the earth and back if it meant protecting his son.

Bruce had been hunting down undercover branches of Cadmus ever since Dick's return; he hadn't had much success, unfortunately. Cadmus was excellent at covering their tracks…of course, that just meant the urge to pound them into a pulp was building and building inside of Bruce; whenever he had a solid enough lead to go after them…well, to put it nicely, the scientists in Cadmus would regret ever being born. _No one _laid a hand on Dick and got away with it.

Bruce was at Dick's door in a matter of seconds, an impressive feat considering the size of the manor. He shoved the door open, concern the predominant emotion on his face as his navy eyes found the shivering form of his son.

Dick was still struggling, sobs and screams continuing to pour out of him in a panicked mixture. The nightlight Dick had quietly insisted be plugged into his wall allowed Bruce to see the tears shimmering on his pale cheeks, the sheer terror on his face. Fatherly instincts taking over, Bruce moved to the bed, paying no attention to the fists narrowly missing him as Dick continued to fight. He was, literally, kicking and screaming.

"Please, don't. No….stop. Bruce! Wally!"

The cry tugged at Bruce's heart, and he wrapped strong arms around Dick, both hoping to calm him and prevent any accidental injury to either of them. Dick's breathing changed, though he was still hyperventilating; he was awake, at least.

Mind still apparently locked in his nightmare, Dick continued fighting, struggling to pull away from Bruce with all of the strength in his small frame. His blue eyes were open, but haunted and terrified, not really seeing anything.

Bruce let go on instinct, hating to be the source of any of Dick's fear. Dick immediately scrambled to the corner of the bed, his back hitting the wooden bedpost with considerable force. The boy curled into a tight ball upon contact, still shaking violently as he shrank into himself, as if to escape from any further harm that might come to him.

Bruce hesitated for only a moment before reaching out. As soon as his fingers touched Dick's shoulder, the thirteen-year-old flinched away violently, a harsh cry following the jerking reaction. "Leave me alone," he whimpered, fear evident in his voice.

"Dick," Bruce said softly, trying to get through to him; it was obvious Dick was still locked in the nightmare, panic twisting his thoughts into an incoherent mess. "Shh, Dickie. You're safe, I promise." He reached out again, forcing himself to ignore the violent reaction and gather Dick into his arms again, though this time in a more gentle hold.

Dick fought for a few more moments before his mind seemed to recognize the familiar voice and warm arms. His tear-filled baby blues focused on Bruce's face, and he let out another muffled sob before burying his face in his adoptive father's shirt. Thin arms wrapped around his neck, and Bruce hugged Dick tighter in response. "You're safe," he repeated, voice as gentle and soothing as possible, "I'm not going to let them ever touch you again."

"H-he was there, B-Bruce," Dick managed to get out, voice shaking almost as badly as his thin body. "I-It felt s-so real, a-and-"

"He's dead, Dickie-bird. If he were alive, I would know. It's all over now, chum."

Dick reached out blindly, fingers finding the well-known fabric of his old childhood toy. He pulled the stuffed elephant close, hoping to find further comfort in something so familiar and regular; Peanut had been there through practically everything.

Most kids his age would be embarrassed by even the thought of sleeping with a stuffed animal; Dick, however, was not most kids. Peanut was at least one constant in his roller-coaster of a life, and at times, he could even pick up the old circus scent buried in the toy. Dick doubted he would ever get rid of his elephant, no matter how old he got.

Dick buried his face in Peanut, arms tightening their grip on both it and Bruce. He was aware that it was late, exhaustion tugging heavily at his limbs, but Dick doubted he could get any sleep now. What seemed like hours passed before Dick had calmed himself down enough to pull away, albeit reluctantly; Bruce was sure to be tired, at least, and he didn't deserve to be kept awake any longer.

So Dick retreated back to his pillow, blue eyes focused firmly on the comforter beneath him. "Sorry," he whispered, voice hoarse and thick with lingering tears. He cleared it, wiping away the salty drops with his hand as he did.

"Don't be," Bruce interjected immediately. He studied Dick carefully for a moment, navy eyes reading body language and facial expression with apparent ease. It wasn't difficult to see that Dick wanted him to stay. He was about to mention it when Dick shook his head. "Go get some sleep," he insisted quietly. "I-I'll be okay."

Both of them had the decency not to notice the way his voice stumbled as he said he would be fine. Bruce nodded, though a reluctant frown slid across his face. He _was _tired though; he would have to take Dick's word on this one. He didn't know if he'd win an argument with the kid or not. "Night, Bruce," Dick whispered, throat still to raw and sore to manage anything louder.

Bruce let out a small sigh through his nose as he stood, ruffling Dick's sweaty hair in a familiar gesture of affection. "Night, Dickie-bird," he murmured as a response before leaving, not bothering to close the door; he knew fully well that Dick would only open it later if he did.

Once the sound of Bruce's footsteps had faded, Dick reached out to grab his cellphone, finding it quickly. He turned it on, the screen casting his face in an almost sickly glow. His fingers shook slightly as he pressed the familiar numbers into the keypad, lifting it up to his ear. Despite the time (it had to be around three in the morning…Dick wasn't exactly sure) it was answered after only three rings.

"_Dick?"_ Wally asked, the sleep in his voice unmistakable. A stifled yawn sent subtle crackle of static through the phone, and Dick tightened his grip.

"Hey, Wally," he answered quietly, unable to stop the sniffle that followed.

"_Nightmare?" _Wally guessed. Honestly, this routine was familiar to both of them. Bruce would calm him down, but it wasn't quite enough for these particular nightmares; Wally had been there for the Cadmus thing, Wally was the one to get him out. It had placed a certain bond between them that had only strengthened their previous one. So, no matter the time, Wally always had his phone on; he would often wake up in the middle of the night, the persistent ringing alerting him of another call from Dick.

Dick nodded before realizing Wally couldn't actually see him. "Yeah, I-" he began before ending abruptly, a lump in his throat forming suddenly. "I-it was really bad this time, Wally. I thought he c-came back, and he said he wasn't done…he still had to break me…he was _right there, _Wally. And I-I couldn't do anything."

"_Dick, we both saw him die. He's gone, dead, no more; if there's anything left, it's ashes. He's not coming back. And if he does, he has to go through the Team, the League, Daddy Bats, and me. So relax, okay, Dick?"_

Dick let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to do just that; his knotted, tense muscles relaxed somewhat and he sank into his pillow. "Thanks, Wally," he mumbled. He felt _slightly _better, at least.

"_No problem. You gonna be okay now?"_

Dick actually had to think about that for a few seconds. "Yeah…I think I'll be fine. Well, as fine as anyone can ever be in Gotham." He was lucky Wally didn't tease him for that pathetic attempt at light-hearted "humor"…that had sounded feeble even to Dick; he could console himself with the fact that it was late at night, and he was still slightly shaky from the nightmare.

"_Right," _Wally snorted, in an odd mixture of disbelief, exhaustion, and amusement, _"I'm not awake enough to argue, so I'm just going to take your word for it. Night, Dick."_

"Night, Wally," Dick answered before ending the call, placing the phone hesitantly on the table beside his bed. Pulling Peanut closer to his chest, his head slumped further into the large pillow.

Even as his blue eyes slipped shut, one thought continued to linger in his mind;

This would never be over.

* * *

**A/N **Things are generally scarier in nightmares, and poor Dick is having a lot of them. If you can't tell already, this is definitely going to have some major angst and hurt/comfort, so buckle up for the ride. ;)

And as an unfortunate side note; I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update. This will definitely be my main priority in terms of writing, but my schedule is pretty busy as of late. Luckily, I already have the first few chapters written, so it shouldn't take too long for a while at least.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	2. Memories

**A/N **Wow, 25 reviews already! That's awesome, guys. :D I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far.

* * *

Wally stifled a yawn, a wave of exhaustion settling over him. Despite the fact that he had school in a few hours, he couldn't bring himself to sleep. Tired emerald eyes flitted over to the calendar pinned on his wall; it had been exactly two months since they escaped Cadmus.

….It had been exactly two months since Hope died.

Wally visibly flinched at that thought, a stab of pain tugging at his heart. You would think it wouldn't hurt this bad; he had known her for barely a week, after all. Surely that wasn't time enough to develop a close bond with someone. But apparently, it was plenty long enough. Hope was practically his little sister! He had promised to protect her...just as he had promised Dick he would protect him from Cadmus, before the thirteen-year-old told him to take Hope and leave him behind. Wally couldn't help a bitter laugh at that. _Look how well _that _turned out, _he thought, guilt edging the mental words.

A sudden lump formed in his throat, and Wally swallowed hard. The speedster stood, throwing his covers off so quickly his outline blurred slightly. He couldn't sit here any longer; at least if he was up and moving, he could pretend the memories couldn't catch him. Of course, that illusion would fade within a matter of seconds, but still. Wally needed the distraction. He shivered as his bare feet touched the cold floor, the contact sending shivers up his spine. He snagged a crumpled hoodie off the back of a chair, pulling it on hastily. Stifling another yawn, Wally headed to the one place he knew would distract him the most: the kitchen.

Movements instinctual and mechanical, he grabbed a banana, peeling it and taking a bite as he opened the fridge with the other hand. The cold wind ruffled his fiery hair and Wally shivered yet again, wishing for a moment that it was summer. Warm sunshine, days spent at the beach, no school…it was much better than the chill and dead leaves of autumn. Lost in thought and movements sluggish from lingering exhaustion, the speedster's fingers fumbled as they pulled out the carton of milk.

Wally groaned, resisting the urge to let out a string of curses as it fell, hitting the ground with a surprisingly loud thud and sending a spray of milk across the floor. _Yeah, _he thought with a heavy sigh, _feels like a Monday. _He quickly grabbed a rag, dropping to the floor and cleaning up the mess. His hopes of not waking anyone up crumbled as Barry walked into the kitchen, blue eyes unfocused and blonde hair messy. Wally glanced up, briefly surprised that Aunt Iris hadn't been the one to wake up; most of the time, Barry slept like the dead. Iris would often tease him about the fact that he would sleep through an explosion next door. Really, the joke wasn't too far off; food was one of the few things that could actually wake the speedster up.

"Wally?" Barry mumbled, still obviously groggy. He briefly wished for a cup of coffee before forcing his blue eyes to focus on his nephew.

"Sorry, Uncle Barry," Wally said quickly, voice quiet; it still sounded far too loud in the once silent house. "I sorta dropped the milk." He held up the dripping rag as he spoke, a sheepish grin slipping across his face.

"…At two in the morning," Barry said, the unspoken question clear in his voice.

Wally stood; the floor was as dry as it was going to get. He threw the empty carton away and put the rag back in the sink before answering. "I couldn't sleep," he mumbled, gaze dropping to the tiled floor.

Barry forced himself to wake up further, concern flitting across his face. Ever since Cadmus, any protective or paternal instinct he had seemed to be magnified; then again, who could blame him? He had nearly lost his nephew, who was practically his son. "Do you want to talk about it?" Barry asked after a second of heavy silence. He knew from experience that Wally would usually try to hide his problems, refusing to talk about them despite his talkative nature. He would only ramble about the positive things, pasting a wide grin on his face that served as a mask that was just as effective as the one he wore as Kid Flash. But Barry figured it was worth a shot asking again; it was clear the kid was shaken.

Wally hesitated before shaking his head. "Nah, it's nothing some breakfast can't fix," he responded lightly, plastering a lop-sided grin across his face. He was lying through his teeth, but this was one of the few things he couldn't really talk to Uncle Barry about. He just…didn't understand. He didn't know Hope, he hadn't been at Cadmus. All Barry had seen was the aftermath, the scars left behind.

Barry studied him carefully for a moment, blue eyes analyzing his nephew. "You know me and your Aunt Iris are always here for you," he reminded softly.

Wally's gaze fell to the floor, emerald orbs focusing on the tiles as if they held the answers to everything. "Yeah," he answered, voice even quieter. "I know." He found himself being squished only a second later, the strong arms somehow comforting even as they nearly strangled him. Obviously, Barry was thinking about the fact that it had been two months too.

Wally tensed at first, but quickly relaxed into the familiar embrace, his own arms reaching up to hug his uncle back. "Thanks, Uncle Barry," he mumbled, grip tightening slightly. He imagined all of the tension draining out of him, those dark shadows wiped away by the warmth and light of the loving gesture. It seemed to work, at least momentarily; Wally felt slightly lighter, his muscles not quite as tense.

"No problem, kid," Barry grinned, ruffling his nephew's hair affectionately. Wally unconsciously leaned into the touch, a smile forming on his own face.

A loud growl cut through the air, interrupting the moment with its liquid rumble. Barry and Wally simultaneously glanced down at their stomachs, then back up at each other. "Was that you or me?" Wally asked, slightly confused about the origin of the unexpected gurgle. It had honestly sounded a bit like a car engine; definitely a speedsters' stomach.

Barry cocked his head to one side slightly, seeming to consider this for a moment before shrugging. "Could've been both of us," he offered.

There was a few seconds of silence before Wally broke it. "So…I make eggs, you make toast?" he checked, raising one eyebrow fractionally. Barry grinned, which was response enough, and the kitchen was soon alive with the bustle of soft conversations and the familiar noises of preparing food.

Relaxing further in the familiar atmosphere, Wally rummaged around the fridge, pulling out the egg cartons and the spare carton of milk; it was a good thing Aunt Iris always thought ahead. One had to in a house with two speedsters. He set them on the counter, pulling out a pan and turning the stove on.

Barry was in the process of sticking bread in the toaster; not exactly a difficult job, but the speedster wasn't exactly known for his amazing cooking skills. He could handle simple things, like toast and macaroni and cheese, but anything more complex than that…and Barry got lost.

Wally, surprisingly, wasn't too bad of a cook. After being removed from his parents' custody and moving in with Barry and Iris, his aunt had immediately started brainstorming ways to make him feel more at home and relaxed. One of the suggestions she had come across was the idea that cooking relieves stress with some people; it takes the mind off of the problems they have, and they can put their energy into something useful. Between that and the general loving atmosphere of the home, Wally had soon moved past the memories of his childhood abuse. He couldn't bring himself to move past cooking though; it was a useful skill to know as a speedster, after all. You never knew when you would need to satisfy a hyper-accelerated metabolism in an emergency. That, and cooking with his Aunt Iris was just pleasant in general. She could always get him to open up about the day and the two would bicker playfully at times until she threatened to revoke dessert privileges. They would inevitably end up laughing a few seconds later.

Wally was tugged gently out of his train of thought by the sound of soft footsteps. He turned to see Aunt Iris, who somehow seemed awake despite the fact that it was two in the morning. How she remained so cheerful and energetic in the morning was a mystery to Wally, who would generally bury himself under his covers if anyone tried to wake him up.

"Wally? Barry?" she asked softly, forehead creasing in slight confusion as she glanced up at the clock. It wasn't unusual to see the two together, especially in the kitchen, but they usually weren't cooking breakfast this early in the morning. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep," Wally shrugged, unwilling to elaborate any further. Uncle Barry behaving like a mother-hen was bad enough.

"He woke me up," Barry explained with a quick smile at his wife.

Iris frowned, glancing back up at the clock again. "Alright, well, eat what you're making and then try and go back to bed. Both of you. You need a few more hours of sleep, Wally West." There was a slight scolding edge to her voice that made it clear she didn't approve of him being up so early when he _should _be sleeping, but Wally grinned anyway.

"I will, Aunt Iris," he assured. Of course, now he planned on eating as slowly as he could to avoid going back to bed, but…oh well.

Iris turned her firm gaze on to the elder speedster in the house, her eyes clearly stating she wouldn't take no for an answer. "You too, Barry," she added.

Barry's shoulders slumped, and he looked up from the toast he was now layering with butter. "I'm fine, Iris," he assured. "I'm a grown man; I can handle missing out on a few hours of sleep."

Iris' lips twitched in a smile. "I'll believe that when I see it," she teased, eliciting an amused snort from Wally.

"Oh, please, Kid. You aren't any more mature than I am," Barry argued, not missing his nephew's slight laugh.

"I dunno, Uncle Barry," Wally said slowly, grin widening. "There was that one time with the ball pit…"

"Come on, Kid! We both know that girl would have cried if I said no," Barry defended. He didn't exactly _want _to play in the mall ball pit while dressed as the Flash. But the little girl had just looked so hopeful, her blue eyes big and pleading, and well…Barry just didn't have the heart to say no. The press had gotten a kick out of it though. Wally had been laughing right along with the reporters.

"You keep telling yourself that," Wally teased, enjoying the distraction the easy banter offered. He turned his attention back to the eggs, flipping them over in the pan. Barry's indignant splutters behind him produced laughs out of the two gingers in the family. "I think the eggs are done," Wally announced, a slight chuckle still clear in his voice.

Barry perked up immediately, and he finished swiping butter across the toast quickly in order to pull out some plates. He set them by the stove top, Wally carefully scraping the eggs into two equal amounts on the plates; he would offer some to Aunt Iris, but past experience told him she'd say no. She never really ate big breakfasts to begin with and considering the fact that it was…maybe two or three in the morning, she would only refuse food. Of course, that just meant there was more for the speedsters.

They both rushed to the table, generating a slight breeze because of the speed of their movements. Iris shook her head slowly, lips twitching in amusement as she watched her boys eat; they shoveled food into their mouths like they hadn't eaten in years. Which, considering the speed at which their brains processed things, it very well could have felt like that long to them. Iris had never been completely sure of how long time really felt to them.

Wally's plans of eating slowly to avoid going back to bed dissipated as the food rapidly disappeared. As soon as that first bite hit his tongue, he couldn't help but want more, his stomach practically screaming at him to hurry and put some food in it already. Of course, eggs and toast weren't nearly enough to fill it, but it would hold him over until it was actually time for breakfast…which was still a few hours away. Crap.

Iris didn't miss the fact that he was done; it helped that she had drilled good manners into him and he instinctively carried his plate to the sink when he had finished eating. She glanced at him, silently reminding him of what he had agreed to; judging by the shadows under his eyes and the subtle pale hue to his skin, Wally could use the extra hours of sleep.

Wally sagged in his chair, letting out a small huff as a pout formed on his face. "Do I have to go back to bed?" he asked, widening his green eyes and making himself look as pitiful as possible. It was a technique that usually worked on Uncle Barry; it only worked on Aunt Iris in certain cases. That woman had the protective maternal instincts to rival a mother grizzly, but she was oddly immune to puppy dog eyes. Even _Batman_ caved to puppy dog eyes sometimes, especially when they were used by Dick.

"Wally, you have school in a few hours," she reminded. "You look exhausted."

"I'm not, Aunt Iris," Wally insisted. That wasn't entirely true though; he _was _tired, but he knew for a fact he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, especially after he had already gotten up and moved around some.

Iris didn't even need to give a verbal response and Wally sighed, sinking further into his chair. "Alright," he grumbled. "I'm going, I'm going." He dragged himself back into a standing position; well, he could at least use the time lying awake in bed to review for his English test. "Night, Uncle Barry. Night, Aunt Iris," he called over his shoulder before slipping out the door, his feet automatically setting him on the path towards his room.

He found a yawn slipping out, despite his best efforts to stifle it. Even though no one was around, Wally's cheeks flushed an embarrassed shade of red. Okay, maybe he _might_ be able to get some sleep if he tried. He nearly fell into his bed, pulling the thick comforter over him and shivering as the sudden warmth reminded him of how cold he was. He curled up into a ball, an effective way of increasing body heat when alone.

Another yawn slipped out, and Wally buried his head in the pillow, taking comfort in the familiar scent. His eyes strayed back to the calendar and he let out a small sigh; it seemed his thoughts wouldn't quite leave that topic alone. At least he had managed to distract himself for a little while. Wally struggled to shake off the memories of trusting brown eyes and blonde curls, of fire and ash. Instead he squeezed his emerald eyes shut, body curling up into an even tighter ball, as if that would offer some sort of protection against the emotions and flashbacks that seeped through him.

He resigned himself to being miserable through the rest of the day; between this and the usual bullies that picked on him, he was pretty much doomed no matter what he said or did.

Wally's mind suddenly flashed back to the day when they had been reunited with the Team. He had been so sure things would somehow work out and everything would be okay again. But two months was an incredibly long time to a speedster, and Wally was starting to wonder if he was just being naïve when he thought that.

Maybe the scars Cadmus left behind would never stop hurting.

* * *

**A/N **A bit of a filler chapter, but there was a bit of necessary characterization in here. ;) I think it gets more exciting soon.

Thanks again to my beta, Sairey13.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: I did a bit of bouncing myself when I read your review, lol. ;) Thank you so much! And I was the one who made the picture; I'm glad you like it! I was wondering if it turned out okay.

Ninja: Thank you so much! I'm glad you're so excited. ^^

fanficfantasies: Dick's misery _is _fun to cheer for...poor kid. ;) I can't say anything about the mysterious figure yet...but all will be revealed in time. *cue ominous music*


	3. Hunted

**A/N **Happy New Year, everybody! I decided to celebrate by updating this story. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

"_You must not fail this time. Subjects 401 and 402 are assets far too valuable to lose."_

"I-I know, sir. The plan is already set; they are waiting for my signal."

"_Then give them the signal. Do not fail us again."_

"I won't, sir."

"_Good. Even these so-called heroes must see the Light."_

* * *

The annoying, repetitive beeping of the alarm clock ripped through the air, eliciting a slight groan out of the speedster. Wally forced his eyes open, the green orbs bleary and glazed. He blinked sleep from them; though his body did feel more rested physically, his mind was still exhausted. He forced himself not to look back up at the calendar but the date continued to mock him, pulling painful memories to the front of his mind.

_A weak smile, determined brown eyes. Blonde curls consumed by flames, the fire swirling around him. The chaotic shades of red and orange, all that remained of Hope._

_All that remained of his little sister._

Wally realized then the irony that she had picked the name Hope. She had kept the speedster sane and relatively rational when Dick was still trapped in Cadmus; a calm in the storm, if you will. Then she had sacrificed herself, willingly activating her unstable powers to help them get out.

For the first time, Wally acknowledged the double meaning; Hope had died, in more ways than one. It wasn't fair that he had to lose his little sister to save his little brother. …Was the universe playing some sort of sick joke on him? Giving him Hope, then taking it away?

The speedster managed to shake himself out of the depressing, jumbled thoughts, pushing them firmly to the back of his mind. There wasn't anything he could do about it now and he was going to be late for school if he continued to dwell on the past. Wally slipped out of bed, shivering as his bare feet once again made contact with the cold bedroom floor. He hurriedly got dressed, unconsciously slipping into super speed as he glanced at the clock; Wally always tended to sleep in until the last minute. After all, why bother waking up early when you can get ready in under a minute? He would have to hurry if he wanted to get something to eat before leaving though. He was ready in a matter of seconds this time, a new personal best. He rushed down the hall and into the kitchen, mouth still tingling from the minty flavor of the toothpaste.

The smell of coffee, pancakes, and bacon filled the room in a pleasant, mouth-watering mixture. Uncle Barry was sipping the hot beverage from his mug as he read the morning paper, while Aunt Iris stood in the kitchen. Bacon sizzled on the stove behind her as she easily transitioned the pancakes onto a plate, the fluid motion speaking of plenty of practice.

Wally wasn't sure if they had stayed up the rest of the night – er, morning – or had gone back to bed, but decided not to question it as his stomach growled. The liquid grumble was loud, sounding almost like a dying motor. Cheeks flushing a gentle red, the teenager plopped himself down at the table, emerald eyes automatically focusing on the plate Aunt Iris was fixing.

She couldn't quite hide a smile at the look on Wally's face; it was similar to a puppy when a bone was being held over its head. Drool was practically coming out of his mouth, a hopeful, eager expression clear on his freckled face. Iris let out a soft chuckle, setting the plate down in front of him. Wally's face lit up as he dug in, barely remembering to use his fork before shoving the huge mouthful of pancakes into his mouth. "'Ank 'oo, Au' I'is!" he said cheerfully, the words distorted behind the semi-chewed food.

Iris tapped on the head lightly with her knuckles, a disapproving (though amused) glint in her eyes. "Manners," she reminded.

Wally swallowed before smiling cheekily, then shoving more pancakes in his mouth. The syrup was probably smeared across his face in a sticky mess, but he honestly didn't care; he could just wipe it off when he was done.

Barry looked up from the newspaper, an expression of dismay crossing his face. "Hey, where's _my _food?" he asked, the slight teasing pout unmistakable. His blue eyes silently pleaded with his wife, stomach obviously begging him to eat.

Iris teasingly elbowed him before setting the plate down, Barry's face lighting up immediately. His face was soon covered in copious amounts of syrup, whipped cream, and bacon crumbs, and Iris was amused to notice that if it weren't for the different hair colors, it would be difficult to tell her husband and nephew apart. She laughed lightly as she nibbled on a bagel; the amount of food they ate was certainly impressive…if a bit disgusting.

Wally got through his plate in under a minute; a new record, especially since Barry was still on his last few bites. The ginger licked the sweet remains off the corners of his mouth and swiped his sleeve across it as he stood, chair squeaking against the tiled floors. "Bye, Aunt Iris! Bye, Uncle Barry!" he called out as he dashed out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he went.

The bus was already at the street corner, the smell of gasoline a dead giveaway that it was nearby. Wally's nose crinkled; really, you think Central City would be able to afford better buses. Then again, it seemed poorly kept school buses were common among most school districts. He was close to making it on, only ten feet away…but then the doors closed.

The bus driver, an older man with a receding hairline, had a policy; if you weren't on the bus by the time the doors closed, you were left behind. Normally, Wally wasn't late…but he wasn't normally lost in thought either. The speedster let out a groan as the bus drove away, exasperation flashing across his face as his shoulders slumped. "I hate Mondays," he mumbled; looks like he would be walking.

He turned to start the trek to his high school, only to stop as the screech of tires filled the air. Confusion clear and a sudden feeling of malaise settling over him, Wally's glance shifted to the black car that was skidding to a hurried stop. The windows were tinted and Wally started walking immediately, increasing his pace to a near jog. Though it could be nothing but a weird civilian, his instincts told him differently; there was something wrong.

This feeling was strengthened further when two men practically jumped out of the car, one from the back and one from the passenger side. They matched the teenager's pace, then moved past it, closing the distance between them rapidly. Wally's green eyes narrowed as he noticed this and he swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. He focused on the sidewalk ahead of him as he slipped into a run, sneakers pounding against the pavement. He could dimly hear the echoing sounds of footsteps behind him as they followed, speeding up as well. Wally's thoughts were racing, trying to figure out what the heck was going on.

It was obvious this was an attempt at a kidnapping; the tinted windows and men chasing him were a dead giveaway. The real questions were who and why, though. He wasn't rich like Dick and Barry wasn't one of the cops that were out in the field a whole lot; Wally couldn't be held for ransom, and it probably wasn't a revenge scheme. They could be after his hero persona, but only one organization knew his secret identity…

Cadmus.

Wally's eyes widened at that realization and he nearly stumbled from surprise and a surge of adrenaline. "Crap," he muttered, pouring on the speed; maybe he was going a tiny bit faster than a normal human could, but he could blame it on terror if anyone asked later. …Not that anyone was around. Why was Cadmus chasing him? Why did they want him back? He thought that was all over…then again, he had probably just been naïve to believe that. Cadmus had done stuff to them; Wally was already an experiment in their eyes.

Wally wanted to throw up at that realization; to them, he was nothing more than property, something to be used for their benefit only. He didn't matter as a person at all. For a second, his mind went to the horrible thought of Dr. Anthony Lawrence's death; what if the man wasn't actually dead? Wally forced himself to shake off that thought immediately. No. Hope hadn't died in vain. He was dead, and he was going to stay that way.

…That still left Cadmus chasing him though.

The speedster sucked in a sharp breath as another realization struck him; where was Dick? If Cadmus was after him, surely they would be hunting his little brother too. He had to keep Dick safe; he honestly wasn't sure if the kid could handle another encounter with Cadmus after being so traumatized by the first one. He had to warn him somehow, he had to –

Wally wanted to smack himself. _Duh!_ He had a phone! He could call for help and then warn Dick. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers gripping the hard surface of his phone tightly as he pulled it out. He was just placing it up to his ear when a sharp prick in his neck caught him off guard. "Ouch," he hissed, free hand darting up to the location.

His vision swam as he fumbled over the dart lodged in his skin and he pulled it out hastily. The drug wasn't strong enough to fully knock him out (it took quite a bit to drug a speedster) but it distorted the landscape and sent a feeling a vertigo crashing over him. Wally swayed, stumbling and tripping over his own feet. His cell phone flew out of his hand, skittering over the pavement before stopping a few feet away. Wally blinked, attempting to fight the drug as he scooted forward. He gritted his teeth, a sense of urgency filling his veins even through the haze of the sedative; he would _not _be kidnapped by Cadmus again.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he had much of a choice in the matter.

The footsteps became louder until Wally could actually see the black shoes. The speedster panted, struggling to stand and fight; a strong kick to his side knocked him back down again quickly, effectively stopping his weak efforts. He let out a hiss at the sharp pain, curling into a ball; that had definitely bruised a rib at the very least. He could hear slight chuckles and muffled words, but he couldn't comprehend them; it sounded like they were speaking from underwater. Wally's numb fingers fumbled as they went up to his ear, hoping to tap the communicator placed there and activate it; if he could, then he might have a chance of getting out of this.

One of the goons noticed this and plucked the communicator out of Wally's ear, easily crushing it in his hand. Wally groaned. Batman was going to kill him for getting another one broken. The teenager attempted to get a good look at their faces, only to find they were masked, the black cloth concealing their identities fairly well. Strong hands grabbed him, and Wally struggled weakly away; his efforts were pathetic, but he couldn't manage much more than writhing as he fought the drug and the men simultaneously.

Wally couldn't stop the rag that was shoved over his face, or the sharp chemical scent that pervaded his nostrils. He couldn't stop the thugs as they dragged him to the car and he couldn't stop the blackness that threatened to overwhelm him immediately.

He was only able to manage a feeble glare at his captors before he succumbed to the drug, body relaxing as he slipped into unconsciousness. The black car drove off, the ginger teenager trapped securely inside.

* * *

**A/N **Eh, not entirely happy with this chapter (I think I could have done better...) but I wanted to post it today. Hopefully, it isn't too terrible. ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

fanficfantasies: Hmmm...maybe I _will _make that into a one-shot. People seemed to like the idea, lol. ^^

Guest that reads: That's alright. ;) And yes, we all hate Dr. Anthony Lawrence here...as you put it, he's a "stupid, evil, idiot". Thank you so much for the review!

please update g: I updated, don't worry! And Dick angst is most definitely coming. ^^


	4. Target

**A/N **Whoo! I finally updated! :D Sorry, that took a few days longer than I had planned for. I'll try not to take as long with the next one.

~Aiva

* * *

The ebony glanced at the clock, letting out a small sigh before he allowed his gaze to drift back to the stairs. He hated being late; it led to too many questions most of the time. Really, Alfred _could_ just take him; normally, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if the British butler was the one who drove Dick to school. But ever since the Cadmus incident, Bruce wanted to stay nearby as much as he could…not that Dick minded. He was still scared of leaving his adoptive father's side for too long after spending a considerable amount of time believing he would never see the man again. Besides, Bruce just felt…safe. There was no other way to put it; Bruce had been there for practically everything since Dick's parents fell. There was no doubt in the teenager's mind that Bruce would do everything in his power to protect him. It was like how being with Wally felt just after they had escaped Cadmus.

_Cadmus_…Dick shivered just at the thought of that place. The lab had definitely left its mark; Dick hated any medical procedure now with a burning animosity and he had a full out panic attack when they had done a quick practice dissection in school. He had actually been left hyperventilating in a corner, pale and shaking. He nearly punched the nurse when she had attempted to calm him down, too; needless to say, they had to call in Bruce for that particular incident. _That _had been interesting to explain once it leaked out to the press.

Dick still didn't like showers very much either, though he had forced himself to get over that dislike fairly quickly; he had to rinse off after practically every mission, after all. It was really difficult to do that with an aversion to water and there was no way in the world Alfred would let him go without taking one.

But those weren't the only scars Cadmus left behind. The experiments they had done had been successful, though probably not the extent Cadmus had hoped for. Dick's strength had definitely been enhanced; he was almost able to lift the weights Bruce benched during training. It wasn't superhuman strength, but it was a dramatic difference from the previous amount the wiry teenager had been able to lift. Despite the benefits of that though, Dick absolutely hated it. It was just another constant reminder of what Cadmus had done to him.

"Dick?" The familiar, deep voice jerked him out of his train of thought, and Dick flinched at the unexpected noise. His blue eyes widened, a sharp gasp slipping out before he recognized Bruce. His thin frame relaxed fractionally, and he offered his guardian a small, reassuring grin. "Morning, Bruce," he said, forcing a normal tone into his voice. He shifted the backpack on his shoulders, a clear hint of what exactly he had been waiting for.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, an unspoken question in the gesture. When no explanation came, the billionaire decided not to press the matter any further; Dick knew he could always come talk to him if he needed to. "Ready to go?" he asked instead.

Dick nodded, already moving to the car. "Are you going to be picking me up today?" he asked, glancing behind him slightly to make sure his adoptive father was following.

"I can't, Dick. Sorry, but Alfred will have to take care of it this time," he responded, an edge of regret hidden underneath the words.

"It's fine," Dick shrugged, refusing to let Bruce feel bad for something he couldn't really control. He was probably buried in paperwork and meetings lately, what with the advancements in computer security they were attempting to make. It was impressive that he managed to make the time he did.

"Master Dick," Alfred cut in, seeming to appear out of nowhere. "You are going to be late for school at this rate."

"I'm going, Alfred," the ebony assured, a sincere grin slipping across his face. He rushed to the car, shouting out a cheerful "Race 'ya!" over his shoulder.

Bruce couldn't quite hide the grin of his own that formed as he raced after his son. He reached the car only seconds behind Dick, who stuck out his tongue playfully. Once again, Bruce couldn't help but be amazed at how easily the boy could get over things; he was only thirteen, but had already been through more hardships than most adults. Yet he still managed to go through life with a smile on his face; honestly, Bruce wasn't sure how he did it. Dick certainly was a Boy Wonder.

"I think you're getting slow, Bruce," Dick teased, the light in his blue eyes taking the sting out of the words.

"Oh really?" Bruce responded, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. "You'll be happy to know that I'm getting off work early then. Maybe you'll finally beat me in a game of basketball, since I'm so slow now."

"I've totally beaten you before!" Dick protested. Bruce chuckled, slipping into the car and buckling himself in. Dick followed his lead, plopping his heavy book bag (he seriously doubted he needed _this _many textbooks for a semester) by his feet as they drove off.

They were only two blocks away from Gotham Academy, Dick talking about whatever happened to pop up in his mind and messing with the English language, Bruce interjecting the occasional comment and laugh. That's when things started to go bad.

Dick was in the middle of a particularly animated story about what this one kid – Jimmy something, he claimed – had done at lunch when he suddenly froze. It looked a bit odd considering the fact that one arm was fully extended and the other was slightly above his head, but it was the panic in his son's blue eyes that made Bruce's heart skip a bit. He twisted his head, following Dick's gaze only to see a car – a black Sedan, judging from the brief glimpse he got – slam into them.

Their car jerked harshly, the movement throwing Dick against his door painfully and slamming his head into the glass; that would definitely be a concussion. Bruce, despite being on the side of impact, was slightly luckier; his door had crumpled, but not far enough to actually damage the billionaire. At worst, Bruce had a broken wrist from throwing out his arm in an instinctive attempt to stop his movement, and fractured ribs; the jolt had definitely aggravated that injury, left behind from last night's patrol.

He grimaced as he shifted positions; Alfred was going to have to wrap his ribs again for sure. His navy eyes immediately flitted over to Dick, who was moaning quietly as he forced his head away from the hard glass. Blood was caked into his dark hair and his blue eyes were slightly glazed; that combined with the fact that he was as white as a sheet sent a wave of paternal concern through Bruce.

That concern was only magnified when Dick's door was jerked harshly open, hands reaching in to grab the dazed teenager. Dick flinched, blue eyes focusing a bit more as adrenaline shot through him. He twisted his body, writhing and struggling desperately; he managed to put up a decent fight considering his concussion. Still, it wasn't enough; there had to be at least three guys targeting Dick alone. There was no way the small acrobat could escape, not when he was half-conscious already.

Bruce actually growled, a low sound that would make any sensible person run away screaming. He ignored the stabs of pain, barely remembering to unbuckle the seat belt before forcing himself out of the car. Dick's wide, startled eyes met his. "Bru-" he started, before being cut off by a hand covering his mouth.

At that moment, Bruce didn't care that he wasn't Batman right then. His hands clenched into tight fists, a deadly edge to his cold navy eyes. These morons were _not _going to take his son, not when he could do something about it. That resolve grew in intensity when he recognized one of the men; the dusty brown hair and pale eyes were a giveaway. "David Benton," he growled, stepping forward. Thoughts swirled around his mind in a frenzy; if he was the one kidnapping Dick, Cadmus had to be behind it. Honestly, Bruce wasn't sure if Dick could take being kidnapped by them again; he was _still _having nightmares, proven by that particularly bad one just last night. His glare focused on the scientist, who was standing next to the thug holding Dick.

"Let Dick go," he demanded, a look of utter loathing on his face; the unadulterated hate burning in his eyes actually made the scientist take a step back before he regained his composure.

"I've already failed Cadmus once, Bruce," David reminded, pale eyes narrowing. "I'm not going to do so again."

"And I'm not going to fail my son again, Benton." Bruce could see Dick struggling, but between his small size and head injury, he couldn't escape. It wasn't difficult to see the panic in the thirteen-year-old's eyes, his blue orbs wide and face pale.

"So I see we're at an impasse."

"Not really," Bruce responded, already calculating the best way to attack. "You release him, and you _might _not be sent to Arkham in a body cast." He honestly didn't care that the civilians running and screaming around them might be startled by the fact that playboy-billionaire-philanthropist Bruce Wayne was threatening what had to be six well-trained kidnappers; really, if they didn't have enough sense to call the police rather than panicking and hoping for Batman, he doubted they would have the sense to figure out his identity from a few angry threats.

His mind carefully analyzed the risks and possible options. They would want Dick alive, so he could attack without worry of threats being made on his charge's life. However, doing so would definitely result in some interesting headlines in the tabloids; while he would gladly sacrifice his identity to protect Dick, that was a last resort option. He could always call Superman in, or maybe the Flash; the Kryptonian was slightly more familiar with Gotham, but Flash would get there quicker and knew what it was like dealing with Cadmus. Of course, doing that would mean sacrificing his pride…but considering the situation, his pride could deal with it. Bruce's hand slipped behind him, pressing the hidden transmitter in an easy, subtle gesture that no one but the most observant would notice.

Flash was there exactly thirty-seven seconds later, arriving during a glaring match between Bruce and David. The Scarlet Speedster blinked, accelerated mind trying to puzzle out what the heck was going on; seeing Dick trapped securely in a thug's arms, panic etched onto his pale face, he quickly figured it out. Not bothering to wait for anyone to acknowledge his presence, he ran forward, pushing his body easily into super-speed. A red-clad fist slammed into the thug's face and Flash scooped Dick into his arms. He dropped the thirteen-year-old off next to Bruce before taking out the rest of the thugs in rapid succession; obviously, they had no idea how to deal with a speedster.

He knocked out the one Bruce had been giving the DaddyBats glare to before skidding to a stop, allowing a grin to spread across his face. "Thank you, Flash," Bruce said, easily putting on the act of grateful rich boy as he knelt by Dick.

"No problem. Stopping criminals from giving people a run for their money is what heroes do," Flash responded, unable to resist throwing a pun in there. Judging from the barely noticeable look of annoyance that flitted across Bruce's face, he noticed. "Flash, Cadmus was behind this," he said, keeping his voice quiet and lips as still as possible. To anyone watching (and there were plenty of witnesses by now) it wouldn't look as if he was speaking.

Flash blanched at the words, face paling visibly behind the red mask. "Kid," he whispered, breath catching in his throat. He ran off immediately, nothing but a gust of wind left behind.

With the speedster gone, Bruce turned his full attention back to Dick, who was looking up at him with wide, scared blue eyes. The acrobat had always been rather observant; concussion or not, he had recognized the face of David Benton, the scientist that had been present during his first kidnapping and the one who had stalked them at the gas station. It wasn't hard to deduce that Cadmus was once again targeting him, and that combined with his recent nightmare…well, it was no wonder Dick was terrified.

Bruce immediately pulled his adoptive son into a tight hug, running a comforting hand through his ebony locks. "Shh, Dick," he soothed, holding him closer as he noticed the slight tremors coursing through the small body. "I promised, remember? They _won't _get you back, chum."

"Y-you couldn't stop them l-last t-time," Dick managed to get out, squeezing his baby blues shut. His stutter was only more pronounced by the concussion; though he was fighting it at the moment, Alfred would definitely need to look at it as soon as possible.

Bruce felt his heart break at those haunted words; it was true. He hadn't been there last time, he hadn't done his job as a father and as a mentor. That was something that would haunt him for a long, long time. "I know, Dickie," he said softly. "But this won't be like last time. I'll protect you."

Dick buried his face in Bruce's shoulder, letting the man pick him up, carrying him as if he weighed nothing at all. Even as he fought back a yawn, the exhaustion from the concussion painfully evident now that most of the adrenaline had worn off, his fingers reached towards his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. He lifted his head, pressing the first number on his speed-dial and silently pleading that everything was okay. The sick feeling in his stomach only grew when the call went to voicemail; Wally wasn't picking up. He _always _picked up, no matter what. And since Cadmus was back…that didn't bode well.

Dick was literally as white as a sheet, eyes glassy with tears, as he met Bruce's gaze. "Bruce," he whispered, mouth painfully dry, "Wally isn't answering."

* * *

**A/N **So our favorite little Robin is still feeling the effects of Cadmus. He hasn't been kidnapped yet, but he knows that he's a target and Wally is probably missing. Poor kid. ;)

Okay, I do want to go into some psychological stuff here for a moment; first, in the beginning when Dick flinched upon hearing Bruce's voice. He isn't actually messed up enough to flinch at every single unexpected noise; not after two months, anyway. He had just been thinking about Cadmus at that moment, so was subconsciously becoming nervous. That's why he flinched like that.

Dick's actually doing a bit better than I'm making it seem (in my mind) right now in the story; he isn't constantly reliving what happened or anything. Actual events have proved he can recover from things fairly quickly, or at least forces himself to be strong anyway; the nightmares are a different matter. It's a bit like a horror movie; it's easy to ignore it during the day, but it's a whole lot scarier at night, in the dark, alone. That's why those are so bad. Besides, he still has nightmares about his parents. I figured it would be the same for something that happened two months ago, especially since it's the two month anniversary. (Dick's used to horrible anniversaries though, moreso than Wally...that's why he's not letting the thoughts consume him as much.)

...I think that covers all of the major points I wanted to clarify/explain more fully. Sorry that that ended up being so long, but I really wanted to put that out there.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Guest that reads: ...Sorry? Lol, I think we all knew it was just a matter of time before I kidnapped at least one of them. ;) I'll join you in hitting them with a bat though. Thanks for the review!

ILoveDickGrayson: Hope I didn't disappoint!

fanficfantasies: Hmm...not as much Dick angst as I had hoped for. Oh well. There will be plenty of that in the future. ;) Oh, and thank you for being honest; for some reason, it isn't often I get people to agree with me when I say I could've done better. Not that I mind a little sugarcoating every now and then, but it's refreshing to hear something else. It's what really makes me think "now, what could I have done better?" Which is how I improve. So...yeah, lol. ^^ Thanks!

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: Don't worry about it; it's fine. ;) Even if it wasn't, you definitely would've made up for it with that amazing review. I mean..._wow. _That was definitely one of the nicest I've gotten; I've had to have read it three or four times now, and grin ear to ear with each word. I actually went around and told some people I knew about the awesome review I got. :) I couldn't help it; honestly, I hold on to some of this stuff when I'm upset. It makes me feel better, I guess, to know that at least someone enjoys what I'm doing. Thank you so much!

Pineapple: Well, I made a reference to Dick having a panic attack in here...I'll probably try to write something similar more directly in the future though. I'll try to do something with the second one too, but honestly, the story writes itself sometimes. ;) Thanks for the input and the kind review!


	5. Determination

**A/N **Got this one up before the two week mark. ^^ This is a bit of a filler, but it has Iris being amazing and plenty of Barry acting like an over-protective dad. ;) Hope you enjoy!

~Aiva

* * *

Worry pounded against the speedster, filling his mind with an anxious hum. _Please let him be okay, _Barry pleaded silently, desperation clear even in his thoughts. _Please let Wally be safe. _Trepidation clawed at him, pushing his body to speeds he wouldn't otherwise explore; he was sure he was leaving a trail of debris behind him, but Barry couldn't bring himself to care at the moment.

His nephew was possibly – no, probably – in danger; there were more pressing matters on his mind. Worst-case scenarios flooded his mind; he could clearly see Wally, beaten and bloody, arms cruelly tied behind him as fear flooded his emerald eyes. He could see Wally, limp on the floor, blood pooling around him as his chest ceased to rise…_no._

Barry shook himself roughly out of that train of thought; he _refused_ to believe that it could even be a possibility. He would just run over to the high school and glimpse in the window of Wally's first class. The cheerful, caring, lovable ginger would be fine, like he always was. All Barry needed was to see that, and then he could relax and focus on how to best protect his nephew…

The Scarlet Speedster was at the school in a matter of seconds, sure that he had beaten his latest record at that speed. Not really caring about the confusion he was causing – he normally wasn't patrolling at this time, much less around the school – he ran over to the window, slowing down enough to get a good glimpse…he didn't see the familiar shock of red hair.

A cold hand gripped Barry's heart and his stomach filled with dread, sending an actual wave of nausea through him. _Wally wasn't there. _Desperate for his kid to be skipping school or _something, _his gloved fingers flew up to the communicator in his ear. He skidded to a stop somewhere in the outskirts of town as he waited for a response, but there was nothing but the ominous buzz of static. Wally _always _answered it, no matter the situation. A string of curses danced on the tip of his tongue; it took a massive amount of self-control to hold the foul words back.

Barry wanted to throw up again as he realized he was going to have to somehow tell Iris that their nephew, practically their _son_, had been kidnapped by Cadmus _again_. And if Dick didn't know, he would have to tell the kid too…on second thought, he could let Bruce do that. Barry wasn't sure if he could handle the fearful look of horror in those baby blues right now. A scowl twisted his features, the expression unnatural on his normally smiling face.

He leaned against a nearby building, grateful for the support right now. He stayed like that for probably ten minutes, which felt like hours to the speedster, lost in sickening thought. But eventually he had to stand, nervous energy setting him on edge. He couldn't stay still, not knowing that _his _boy was out there somewhere, lost and probably injured. At the very least he was dealing with mental trauma; Wally might not talk it about it much (he had only ever said anything about it when they had pressed for details the first time) but Barry knew it was there.

Milliseconds later, his yellow boots were pounding against the pavement, propelling him forward and breaking the sound barrier in the process. He wanted to just run, scour the world until he found that brave, smart, amazing teenager that had come to mean so much to him. Barry knew from experience that he would run himself ragged before he found anything (if there was one thing Cadmus could do, it was cover their tracks well) and that would only make Iris more upset than she already would be. The realization that, logically, there was nothing he could do filled him with a new level of despair, something he hadn't thought possible. He pushed himself faster, desperate to rid himself of the heavy blanket of anxiety and worry that clung to him. It didn't do anything but make his stomach roar with hunger, sharpening the empty dread inside of him. _Wally…_

Barry's mind couldn't help but rewind back to all of the times he had left to check on Wally in the middle of the night, those silent promises he had made to protect his nephew that had already seen far too much in fifteen years. Familiar guilt swept through him; he should've done something to stop this. There had to have been some way to prevent this and it was his fault for not doing it.

As soon as those thoughts came, the speedster squashed them back down. He couldn't dwell on that right now; it would destroy him from the inside out, and he needed to focus if he was going to find Wally. He refused to fail at that, at least. With his emotions in check for the moment, there was one thing left to do: Barry still had to find a way to break the news to Iris. His heart sank further just imagining his wife's expression; she would try to be strong, but that wouldn't hide the hurt in those beautiful eyes.

But there wasn't any way out of it. She had to know, the sooner, the better. Barry supposed it was a good thing now that today was a slow news day and a lot of their equipment had been destroyed in a particularly…_interesting_ mishap with the Rogues. He altered his course, miles seeming more like feet as he ran, a mere blur to any watching civilians. Seconds often seemed like hours to the speedster, but right now he wished more than anything time could pass even slower, so he could put off the conversation. But controlling time was most definitely not one of his superpowers, and he was home a few short seconds later.

He pushed the door open reluctantly, not bothering to change out of his costume as his outline settled into a solid shape. Iris stood from her position on the couch; judging from the vacuum cleaner next to her, she had been in the middle of cleaning before sitting down for a short break. "Barry?" she asked, cocking her head questioningly. "What are you doing home?"

Unless he had been injured on patrol – and it was far too early for that anyway – he should be at work, not collapsing on to the couch. Iris quickly noticed the grief in his blue eyes and the anxiety etched on to his face before he buried it into his hands. She sat on the couch, placing a slender hand on his shoulder in a familiar, comforting gesture. Worry filled her immediately; what was wrong? What had happened? He didn't look injured…

"He's gone." Barry's voice was hoarse, breaking slightly over the last word. He didn't look up, but his entire body tensed. "Wally...he…Cadmus has him again."

"_What?" _The pained surprise in Iris' voice hit Barry hard, and his head sunk even lower, if possible.

"Cadmus got Wally," Barry repeated, taking a breath before launching into the explanation he knew she would demand. "Bats sent a signal asking for backup…Dick was about to be kidnapped. Managed to get him away, but Bats…he said Cadmus had organized it. I checked at the school and tried calling him through the comm, but…he's not there, Iris." There was raw emotion in his voice, so obvious and sore it made Iris' heart ache.

"Barry…" she murmured, wrapping her cool arms around him, providing the speedster a sense of stability. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't, not when she knew Barry wanted to do the same. She could be strong, _would _be strong, for her boys. They both needed her, evidently. So she would wait until she was alone to break down and face the emotions boiling inside of her, focusing only on comforting her husband right now. "We'll get him back, like we always do." She had to cling on to that hope, or she would shatter like glass.

"He still has nightmares about last time," Barry whispered, a fresh wave of guilt sweeping through him. His late night visits to Wally's room had often let him see the teenager twisting and moaning, or sitting up on his bed, murmuring quiet reassurances to himself as soft sobs made his voice crack. Wally was back asleep not too long afterwards, but it nearly broke Barry's heart each time. Of course, Wally didn't show any of that during the day; he was excellent at hiding what he didn't want others to see. That had come from years of living with his father…

"Barry, don't," Iris interrupted, voice suddenly firm. "You can't run yourself into the ground like last time, and you can't feel guilty. It wasn't your fault, and I _know _that you'll bring him home."

Barry focused on that hard edge of strength inside of him, something that had formed from years of being a hero. He could push through all of these confusing, heavy emotions because that's what heroes did. He needed this moment of weakness, but that's all it was; a moment, a brief sliver of time. It was over now, and Barry could already feel himself pushing the negative feelings inside, allowing only one thing to fill his mind: hope. Hope that everything would work out, hope that Wally would soon be safe in his arms.

With that determination in mind, he stood again. "I'm going to go meet Bats, see if we can find any leads," he said, a familiar spark reentering his blue eyes.

Iris nodded, rising to press a soft kiss to his face before offering a gentle smile. "Bring him home," she smiled.

Barry couldn't stop the matching smile that spread across his own face, crinkling it into a familiar pattern of laugh lines. "I will," he assured before running out again, leaving behind an almost trademark gust of wind.

* * *

Previous wishes of time passing slower vanished as he attempted to reach the Batcave as fast as possible. He must have succeeded, because it looked like Bruce and Dick had only just got there by the time Barry arrived.

The speedster skidded to a stop, the squeak of his boots against rock filling the air. Dick jerked harshly at the sound, grip tightening on Bruce; the poor kid must be terrified, considering all that was going on. "Bats, is there any leads?" he asked immediately, having to actually try to slow down his words so they were understandable.

Bruce shot him a look that was scarily close to a DaddyBats glare, as Wally had dubbed it. That thought made Barry want to vibrate in anxiety, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to stay focused if he wanted to find his nephew. "Barry, I only just got home. I haven't had the time to change, much less start looking for leads," he snapped, obviously irritated. It wasn't hard to see why; Dick was pale and practically clinging to Bruce. He also had a concussion, judging by the slightly distant look in his enigmatic blue eyes.

"Well, start looking!" Barry shot back, a surprising bite to his voice. "Who knows what Cadmus will do to him?!"

"Stop!" Dick shouted suddenly, the volume impressive considering his small size and head injury. He was trembling again, but his expression was a bit more focused and determined. "They're not going to do anything! He's going to be fine, and we're going to get him back!" There was a desperate edge to his voice, and Barry realized his mistake immediately.

"Sorry, Dick. Of course we'll get him back," the blonde speedster nodded. He glanced up at Bruce, light blue eyes pleading. The billionaire turned, arms reaching around the thirteen-year-old on his lap to type on the Batcomputer. There was silence for a few minutes before Bruce spoke up.

"I have a lead."

* * *

**A/N **I know some of you have been asking to see more Wally; it would've been this chapter, but I felt like the story needed at least one chapter focusing on Barry's thoughts. He'll be in the next chapter for sure though. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: Holy compliments...you just made my day again. :D It makes me smile so wide my cheeks ache whenever I hear that I've inspired someone; I can't wait to read whatever you finally do post to Fanfiction. I'm sure it'll be phenomenal. ^^ Thank you so much for the review and the kind words. They mean a lot to me.

Guest that reads: Hey, I'll help too; I've got a few sharp objects with Cadmus' name on them. ;) Thank you for the review!

Pineapple: No problem! Honestly, I depend on input from my readers sometimes to keep the story going. I love to hear your ideas. ^^ Thank you for the review!


	6. Lead

**A/N **And, finally, we get to see Wally again. ^^ We have more of him in the next chapter too.

~Aiva

* * *

The first thing that Wally was aware of was the fierce headache that pounded against his skull. It was _awful,_ an agonizing throb that made it hard to think, much less move. It felt as if he had been hit by a truck, then had an entire soccer team stomp on his head with their cleats…which brought up a new concern. What _had _happened? He vaguely remembered leaving for school, missing the bus, and…dang it.

The memories fell into place quickly, making him a bit nauseous. He had been kidnapped, by _Cadmus_ of all people. He forced his eyes open, the emerald orbs anxiously trying to recognize his surroundings. He was in an apartment building, from what he could tell; dust and dirt were caked into the walls and floors and wooden beams showed through the occasional hole in the plaster. That meant it was definitely abandoned, probably slated for destruction at some point in the future.

It also meant no one would be finding him any time soon.

Wally attempted to sit up, which was a lot harder than it sounded; the drug was still in his system and his hands and feet were cuffed tightly together. A scowl settled across his freckled face when he realized he had been slumped against one of his captors and he wriggled upright immediately. Carefully gauging the stiffness in his muscles and the few beams of sunlight that filtered through the crooked wooden beams covering the windows, he guessed he had been out for about an hour. That was a _long _time for a speedster, considering how quickly his metabolism burned through most things. Whatever drug they had given him had obviously done its job well.

"402 is awake!" the nearby thug called. Wally rolled his eyes; had these people learned nothing? He had a name. He attempted to inform them of this, but all that came out was a muffled _mmph. _It was then he noticed the gag covering his face, effectively silencing him. Not willing to sound like a complete idiot (even though it was a feeling he was pretty familiar with), he opted for being quiet until he could get the thing off.

"Well, he ain't goin' nowhere. Jus' keep an eye on 'im, and wait for 'em to bring 401," the other one responded, glancing up from polishing his gun. The ginger teenager groaned; Cadmus had apparently lowered their standards if they were letting idiots like _this _in. Sure, Wally knew more about science than he did about English, but even he knew that that sentence was absolutely pathetic. Through his exasperation – and yes, mild fear – he picked out a part of the sentence. _"Wait for 'em to bring 401." _Wally remembered that much from the time they had both spent in Cadmus; Dick was Subject 401, and he was Subject 402. That meant there had definitely been a kidnapping attempt on Dick and it sounded like it was successful too. The speedster's eyes narrowed in an anger that was a bit uncharacteristic, though completely understandable in the situation.

Dick was going to be terrified; the kid may put up a brave face in front of others, but that didn't change the fact that he was still having nightmares. Really bad ones too, judging by the phone call he had gotten last night. If they had Dick…well, needless to say, Wally went into big brother mode immediately just at the thought. They were _not _going to touch his best friend again, not when he could do something about it. Of course, protecting him would only work if Wally was actually able to _move _and get out of this mess. He sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself for what was sure to be a challenging escape; even if his captors _were _incredibly stupid, the cuffs binding his ankles and wrists would be extremely difficult to get out of. If only he could vibrate his molecules through solid objects…unfortunately for the speedster, he wasn't able to do that quite yet.

_What _am_ I going to do? _Wally wondered silently. He really was stuck, unable to even talk; making unintelligible noises behind the gag didn't count. He couldn't trick them verbally and there was no way he could run. He supposed he could always try to speed-crawl like a worm to the door, but even then, how would he get it open? That deep breath he had taken in preparation turned into a heavy sigh of resignation; this was hopeless.

There was no way on earth he'd get out of this, not without some sort of outside help or random miracle. It was only a matter of time before Dick was beside him and they were dragged off to Cadmus together. And after that…well, he didn't really want to think about that too much. The things he read on the hacked files, seeing Dick's trauma – all of it scared Wally, though he wouldn't admit it. While he would eagerly take a blow for his best friend to save him the pain, he didn't exactly _want _to end up scarred and traumatized. Because let's face it; if they ever set foot in Cadmus again, it was unlikely they'd ever make it out. The lab wouldn't be too willing to let them go again.

Right now, all Wally could really do was cling to the hope that Barry or Bruce would find him and Dick before it was too late. _C'mon, Uncle Barry, _he pleaded silently, allowing his emerald eyes to close for a brief second. _Don't let them get us again. _

* * *

Bruce pulled up a few videos; they all looked to be of the same thing, just from different angles. He tapped a few keys to enlarge one of them, the recording starting to play immediately. Even with the grainy quality of the film, the shock of fiery red hair was unmistakable. Barry sucked in a breath, the sharp inhalation making a slight hiss through his gritted teeth; it took every ounce of his willpower to stay still, blue eyes rooted to the screen.

Fierce determination was etched onto his face, obvious even with the cowl, and righteous fury emanated from every part of his being. _Wally. _The teenager was walking along the sidewalk, tensing as a sleek black car stopped behind him. It seemed everyone was holding their breath as they watched two masked men jump out and start chasing him. The speedster put up an excellent fight considering how sudden everything was and the fact that he was in his civvies, but it was still only a matter of time before he collapsed. The dart was visible only to Barry as it sped through the air and pricked Wally's neck.

Barry's heart soared with an inexplicable pride as Wally attempted to fight the obviously strong drug, fingers fumbling over the sidewalk to reach for his phone. That didn't stop the men from grabbing him and stuffing him into the car, and Barry felt anger swoop over him again. Batman may have had the reputation for getting violent when his Robin was in danger, but Barry could easily become the same way; Wally was so much more than just his nephew. The talkative, impulsive, lovable teenager was practically his son, and Barry would do most anything to protect him. "Can you track the vehicle they used?" he asked quickly, barely remembering to keep his voice at a speed non-speedsters could understand.

Bruce shot him a look that clearly said _of-course-I-can-I'm-Batman, _typing away on the keyboard. It was only a matter of seconds before he had pulled up the proper programs and was running searches, but it felt like hours to Barry. The Scarlet Speedster shifted impatiently, unable to really help it; his mind moved so quickly it was hard to be patient in the first place. Someone he loved being in danger only magnified this until waiting was practically unbearable. A few heavy moments passed before Bruce spoke up. "Got it," he informed. "I used the license plate to help narrow it down. They're in the south side of Central, one of the abandoned sections."

"Well, what are we waiting for?!" Dick blurted, sounding just as anxious to leave as the blonde speedster. "Let's go get Wally!"

"You're staying here," Bruce said immediately, the firm look in his navy eyes leaving no room for argument.

Dick shook his head stubbornly, though the movement sent searing pain through his concussed head. He ignored it; he could push through anything if it meant saving his best friend. He knew why Bruce wanted him to stay behind; it was to protect him. Honestly, Dick was scared of running into anyone associated with Cadmus already, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. He was far more scared of the possibility of Wally disappearing forever into those dreaded labs. "I'm coming," he argued with no hesitation. He couldn't just sit this one out, even if the look in his adoptive father's eyes was border-line pleading.

"Dick," he warned, a stern edge to the name. Seeing the teenager wasn't going to budge, he let out a small sigh through his nose. His voice took on a slightly more gentle tone as he continued, determined to make the stalwart acrobat understand exactly _why_ this was such a terrible idea. "Dick, Cadmus has already made one attempt to kidnap you; we got lucky this time. We will probably be playing right into their hands if you go after Wally. I understand that he's your friend, but _you _have to understand I just want to keep you safe. We-"

"No!" Dick interrupted loudly, blue eyes flashing with anger. His emotions, already running high from the worry and dread that pounded through him, had been thrown out of balance because of the concussion. He couldn't hold back the rage that was building up inside, or the tears that threatened to sting his eyes. He blinked them back, refusing to let the salty drops show. "You don't understand! _They have Wally! _I can't just sit back and let you go out there; he's my best friend, and he came for me even when you told him not to! Why shouldn't I do the same?"

Navy eyes met baby blue, an entire conversation passing between them just through the simple glances. Bruce turned his head away slightly after a moment. "I'm sorry, Dick, but I can't let you go." He couldn't risk losing his son again, not after getting him back just two months ago; that amount of time seemed far shorter than it should've, especially now.

Dick tensed, hands balling into tight fists at his sides. His head was pounding as his heart raced, his breaths coming in frustrated pants. "Fine," he growled, ire painfully obvious on his pale gypsy face. He stalked off, anger clear in the heavy, forceful movements.

Bruce watched him go, resisting the urge to call him back. The longer they waited, the less chance they had of finding Wally. Dick would be fine until he got back…he hoped. Bruce shook himself out of his thoughts, pulling the cowl over his head and tugging the dark cape around his shoulders. He turned to Barry, who looked like he was ready to vibrate a hole in the metal and rock floor beneath him. "Let's go," Bruce finally said, voice taking on the gruff, rough edge it held while in costume.

Barry, who once would've shivered at the sudden change, merely nodded. Images flashed through his head; Wally tied up, Wally beaten, Wally _dead_…he had to forcibly pull himself away from that scenario. Cold, fierce determination radiated off of him; he would get his nephew back. He had too. With that resolve in mind, he readied himself to race out of the cave. A strong hand on his shoulder stopped him. "We're using the zeta beams, Flash," Bruce informed.

For a second, Barry wanted to argue, but he quickly realized that zeta travel was just as fast, if not a bit faster. "And we're going to think this through," Bruce added sternly. "We have no idea the extent of training these men have. We are _not_ going to rush in blindly." At this, Barry _did _try to argue, his mouth open to protest. Bruce cut him off by activating the zeta beam he had in the Batcave; it wasn't normally used (actually, it was deactivated most of the time) but it was there.

They didn't have time for this. _Wally_ didn't have time for this. Bruce was just hoping it wasn't too late to figure out a way to get the kid back.

* * *

**A/N **This isn't one of my strongest chapters either...*sigh* Sorry about that.

Anyway, Victim has officially reached 100 reviews! :D Thanks guys! I'm really happy with the fact that I reached 100 in just _5_ chapters especially; that's awesome. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

please update g: Thank you so much! ^^

Guest that reads: I love over-protective Barry...a _lot. _XD The brother-relationship between Dick and Wally is really fun to explore too... Anyway, yes, Cadmus needs to be destroyed. I'll help you with that! ^^ Though I think Roy would also like to help beat up Dr. Anthony Lawrence...lol. Thanks for the review!

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: Oh...wow. Just _wow. _I mean, I get that some people like my writing (or don't think it's awful, at least) but to have someone like it enough to do that...it's amazing. Thank you so much; it means a lot to me. I...don't even really know where to begin in terms of responding to this amazing review. Please, feel free to dedicate a story to me...that sounded a bit less egotistical in my head than it did typed out, but oh well. You know what I mean. ;) Again, thank you so much...I can't really repeat that enough.

fanficfantasies: Well, Dick definitely deserves to be concerned over; the poor kid is going through a lot. As for not torturing him too bad...well, I can't really promise that. This time, I made the first genre up there angst, so...yeah. Oops? Thanks for the review though! ^^

Pineapple: First off, congratulations on being the 100th reviewer! (I'm pretty sure anyway...XD) Anyway, I hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter! Unless I have something insanely big planned (which I do later...) I always get a bit nervous picking up after a cliffie, because I tried to build up the suspense as much as I could, and I really don't want things to be anticlimatic. Yet for some reason, I keep using a lot of cliffhangers. XD Thanks for the review (I enjoyed the "Eat my dust! It's high in fiber!" part, lol)!


	7. Injured

**A/N **Well, this ended up being a few days later than I had planned...sorry about that, guys. I became really busy all of the sudden for a while. My schedule should be a bit clearer now though. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

Dick bit his lip nervously when Bruce and Barry disappeared, indecision coursing through him even though there was no decision to really be made; he _had _to go. Still, he hated to ignore Bruce when he knew that the man had his best interests at heart and only wanted to keep him safe. Honestly, Dick didn't want to go either; he could never see another Cadmus lackey again and it would still be too soon. He couldn't let that deter him from his mission though.

Really, it was simple; Dick had even stated his reasons why when yelling at Bruce. Wally had come to rescue _him_ despite all of the risks, willing to chance it all in order to get his little brother back. It was Dick's duty as a best friend to do the same, no matter what could possibly happen. All of it was worth it if it meant Wally was safe.

The acrobat delayed his leaving only long enough to put on some comfortable civvies; the Gotham Academy uniform wasn't exactly the best thing to be fighting and running around in, especially since it was already rumpled and torn from the car crash. He secured his utility belt around his waist, the golden weight comforting as it rested against his hips. "Right," he sighed, the quiet whisper slipping past his lips. "Let's do this." Ignoring the throbbing pain in his head – he had pushed through far worse before, after all – he stepped over to the zeta beam controls they had in the Batcave. Tonight seemed to be the exception to the fact that they were rarely used. Determined to get there first, he selected a zeta beam location a bit closer to the south side of Central, one that wasn't ever really used.

Dick was soon gone, teleported to Central City in a flash of brilliant yellow light.

* * *

Wally was torn out of his rather pessimistic thoughts by a loud rumble from his stomach. A familiar ache followed the unexpected noise and he couldn't help but groan. He was _hungry. _He had eaten before leaving for the bus, but his metabolism had sped up further because of adrenaline. That combined with the fact that he'd had to burn off the drug they had put in him left the speedster with a very empty stomach. Wally couldn't help but try to reach his pocket, where one of his special energy bars was stored. Unfortunately, the thug next to him noticed the attempts and pressed a gun to his head. Wally tensed instinctively at the cold metal, making the moron chuckle. "Don't move or there'll be a hole in your head," he warned.

Wally honestly wasn't _that _concerned, despite his initial reaction. Cadmus obviously wanted him alive, so the threats of shooting him were nothing more than a bluff. Of course, these guys had already proven themselves to be pretty stupid, so maybe they would just forget about that order. Wally's stomach let out another liquid gurgle, this one much louder.

Another thug spoke up, this one obviously newer and not nearly as ruthless. "Maybe we should give him something to eat. I mean, he sounds pretty hungry and they might pay us less if he isn't in top shape," he suggested. He was quickly smacked upside the head.

"Idiot," another one – the leader, judging from what Wally had heard so far – growled. "If we feed 'im, he ain't gonna be weak, an' then he'll escape."

For the sake of remembrance, Wally decided to call this thug Stupid. The one sitting next to him was Ugly, and the one who suggested giving him food was Moron. The names didn't have very much creativity, but the teenager decided that was okay considering the situation.

"But how can he escape? He's tied up!" Moron argued.

"I agree," Ugly nodded, removing the gun so he could use the hand to scratch the back of his neck. "There's no way he's gettin' out."

Wally's stomach grumbled again, sounding almost like someone revving a car engine. Moron cringed at the sound, face screwing up in slight disgust. "Isn't there some way to get that thing to shut up?" Ugly asked, irritated.

_Yeah, _Wally thought with annoyance, _Give me some food already._

Stupid sighed before seeming to accept defeat. "Does any of you got food?" he asked.

"Uh…" Moron started, seeming to think as he reached into one of his pockets. "I have a granola bar. And some Tic Tacs."

"Jus' give 'im that, I guess."

Moron shrugged, tossing the granola bar at the speedster before belatedly remembering the gag. "Hey, he can't eat with a gag," he pointed out.

"Well, take it off!" Stupid snapped.

Moron quickly removed the gag and Wally smirked, glad to have his mouth free. He didn't waste any time in unwrapping the food though, cuffed hands rising to shove it in his mouth. It wasn't nearly satisfying enough, but at least he wouldn't die of starvation now. He managed to get the energy bar he had too, for good measure. Unable to resist the urge to torment them a bit, the speedster let out a loud burp after finishing. "Much better," he grinned. "You guys have no idea how hungry I get sometimes. I remember there was this one time where I was out running – somewhere in China I think – and I didn't stock up on snacks. I ended up collapsing because I was so hungry and way too stupid to stop. I managed to get to this restaurant, but the guy running it only spoke Chinese. I couldn't understand a word he was saying and he didn't want to accept American money.

"He kept yelling at me and we ended up doing this really weird charade thing because I only understood, like, three words of what he said. I really need to brush up on my Chinese, huh? Anyway, this random street vendor ended up giving me all of his oranges. I didn't even know they grew oranges in China. They seem more like the rice type, you know? Moral of the story is, always listen to your aunt when she tells you not to forget something. Oh, and always expect the unexpected. You never know what other countries are growing. …That sounded a bit weird, didn't it? Hey, did you guys know-" He was interrupted by a gun pressed to his forehead again.

"Shut up or I shoot," Stupid threatened, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

"Shut up…hmm, I'm not sure I know what that phrase means. Mind explaining?" Wally responded cheekily. "Either way, I wouldn't shoot. I'm betting Cadmus wouldn't be too happy about it and I know for a fact Uncle Barry wouldn't be. He's going to kick your sorry butts for kidnapping me in the first place, but if you actually hurt me? Yeah, you're going _wish _that heroes could kill."

Ugly was the one who got angry this time, smacking the annoying speedster across the face. Wally merely spat out a mouthful of blood, not even looking afraid as he met the thug's gaze. "Well, I warned you. It's only a matter of time before he comes now. I swear, he can be as much of a mother hen as my aunt some times, and that's saying something, believe me. You better hope that hit didn't bruise; he'll be even angrier if he sees that," Wally grinned, unable to help himself. He actually was a bit scared that Uncle Barry _wouldn't _find him, but he refused to think about that. Irritating the heck out of these incompetent fools was a great way of distracting himself.

"I'm serious, boy."

"Wow, a whole three syllables!" Wally feigned surprise. "I didn't think you knew words with more than two." Stupid's eye was beginning to twitch and his face was a deep red, something Wally couldn't help but take great pride in. Whatever snarky comment the speedster might have been made next was interrupted by the muzzle of a gun pointing at him yet again.

Wally pasted a confident smirk on his face and let out a small chuckle that he hoped sounded more real than it actually was. He may mentally tease them for being stupid, but really, that quality just made them more dangerous. They really might shoot him. Of course, the teenager wouldn't ever admit that fear. That was one of the top rules of being a hero; you _never _let the villains in on any weaknesses you had. "Just put the gun down," he advised, keeping his voice calm but cocky. "We both know Cadmus paid you to kidnap me, not kill me. I really doubt they'd be too happy if you shot me."

"Kid-" Wally tensed instinctively at the title. That was what _Uncle Barry_ called him; these thugs had no right to use that nickname, especially with such malice and condescension. "-just because I shoot you," Ugly continued with a surprisingly sinister smirk, "who says I'm going to kill you? I'm sure they can fix you up later and I'm sick of your mouth."

Okay, so maybe Batman, Black Canary, Robin…and pretty much everyone _did _have a point when he said that Wally's big mouth was going to get him killed one day. That realization did nothing to stop the criminal's finger from tightening on the trigger and the bang that followed though. Fiery agony raced up his right leg like the sharp blade of a white-hot knife. Despite his considerable pain tolerance, Wally couldn't hold back the scream that ripped its way out of his throat. Tears welled up in the speedster's eyes reflexively and he blinked them back furiously. Even through the suffocating haze of pain, he still retained enough pride to refuse to cry in front of his captors. He choked back a sob, letting out another sharp cry instead. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, it _hurt. _One would think he would be used to the pain, considering how many times he got shot. But there really wasn't anything Wally could do to brace himself for the agonizing fire of having a bullet rip through his body.

"Maybe that'll teach 'ya to shut your mouth," Ugly muttered, shoving his gun back into its holster on his belt. Wally shot a hatred-fueled glare at the guy who had just _shot his leg. _Like the pain wasn't enough on its own. Now he couldn't run either and that was the worst possible thing for a speedster to hear. "He's…gonna...get you," he hissed through gritted teeth, face still screwed up from the pain. That didn't stop the furious words from pouring out of his mouth. Oh, they were going to regret this so badly. "I warned you. You're gonna wish…you were…never born." Talking definitely wasn't helping him to feel any better; in fact, all Wally really wanted to do was pass out for a little while and hope that when he woke up he would be safe in his bed again. But of course, he couldn't do that.

"Just how stupid are you, kid?" Ugly leaned in close. "No one's coming. Do I have to shoot you again to make you get it? Shut. Up."

Wally's leg was sending urgent signals of aching agony to his brain, but that didn't stop the anger from welling up inside of him. There was no way he was going to actually listen to his captor. "Don't call me kid," he growled in response, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

Ugly pointed his gun at the speedster's other leg without any hesitation.

"Wait," Stupid interrupted. "I wants to shoot 'im this time!" His finger tightened on the trigger and Wally squeezed his eyes shut…

A dark object flew forward, seeming to appear out of nowhere as it knocked the gun out of the thug's hand. Wally blinked when he didn't feel any bullets ripping through his skin, pain-glazed eyes flitting around for the source. The emerald orbs widened when they noticed a very familiar shape near the open doorway.

Dick stepped out of the shadows, the canary yellow of the utility belt around his waist obvious. His dark hair was messy and windblown and a dark bruise stood out against his pale forehead, but his icy blue eyes were narrowed into dangerous slits. A birdarang was clutched tightly in his gloved fingertips, the razor-sharp edges glinting dully. "Don't _ever _hurt my big brother," he snarled, an ominous, threatening edge to his deadly serious voice. Right then, he didn't sound like the cheerful, clever thirteen-year-old he really was. He sounded almost sinister, just his glare enough to make it feel like the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

Wally wasn't perturbed by any of this though. The parts of his mind not overwhelmed by the fiery torture of his right leg were buzzing with adrenaline. Dick was here! He hadn't been kidnapped after all, and was actually _rescuing_ him. He was doing a pretty good job of it so far too. Dick launched into action, a flurry of kicks, punches, and flying birdarangs. The thugs didn't stand a chance, and were soon unconscious or moaning on the floor. "Which one did that?" Dick demanded, gesturing towards the bleeding bullet wound in Wally's leg. The speedster was happy to oblige, nodding his head towards Ugly on the floor.

Dick had soon grabbed the thug by the front of his shirt, glad this one was still semi-conscious. "I want you to listen very carefully," he said, voice low and dangerous. "You're lucky you're not being sent to _Arkham _in a _body cast, _because you'd have to be insane to shoot _my _best friend." He slammed the criminal into the wall, light plaster dust twirling down from the ceiling at the impact. "I'm only letting you off this easy because he needs medical attention. But I swear, if you or any other Cadmus goons come close to either of us ever again, I'm going to make you wish you were _never born. _Understand?"

Ugly swallowed hard and nodded rapidly, sweat trickling freely down his clammy face. This kid was actually scary, believe it or not. The most terrifying part was the fact that he hadn't raised his voice, not once; it was like he was holding back his anger so he could unleash it in a terrible fury later.

"Good," Dick growled, before dropping him and landing a solid kick to the man's head to knock him out.

Dick changed gears immediately as he stepped closer to Wally, becoming more of a concerned best friend than an aggressive avenger. That didn't stop his next statement though. "You know," he commented, "I actually kind of enjoyed that."

* * *

**A/N **Okay, so I only have one chapter written in advance now, when I previously had three (I think...somewhere around there, anyway). This is because I actually changed what I wanted to happen; it flowed better in my mind this way than it did before. So I basically had to scrap everything I had written after this chapter, because it all corresponded to the first draft.

Anyway, that means I'll actually be having to start writing quicker than I have been. Hopefully my updates won't lag too much, but if they do, that's why. Sorry!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

fanficfantasies: Oh, I didn't mean angst like that! Sorry if you thought I did. No, I was referring more to the emotional aspect of it too; I love dealing with psychological stuff like that and really delving deep into the mind of the character. ^^ Anyway, I think Dick _had _to go after Wally; it's just not his nature to leave his best friend like that. Doesn't change the fact that it was stupid though. ;) And...I have no idea where they get that nickname. It_ is_ a bit odd when you think about it... Thanks for the review!

Pineapple: Aw, I'm glad you think it's amazing! ^^ Thank you so much for the review!

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: I don't really have any ideas at the moment (unfortunately) so let's just go with PMs once you get an account. ;) I look forward to the day when you can really join fanfiction; I know you're stories will be spectacular. And don't worry about it; I understand being busy. Don't feel terrible, it's seriously fine. Anyway, I'm really glad you like it! Your reviews are always so kind and make me smile for a good while after reading them. Thank you so much!

Maddie Seth: Lol, I'm terrible at estimating time too. It confuses people (me included) when I try to describe something that I think happened yesterday when it really happened last week...anyway, I'm glad you like it so much. Thanks for the review! :)


	8. Embrace

**A/N **Yes, an update! I was originally going to wait until Pi day, but I decided you guys deserved an update today instead. ;) Oh, and thank you so much for the reviews so far everyone! You're absolutely amazing readers. I bet we can get to 150 reviews with this chapter too. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

Dick quickly pulled out bandages and tweezers from his utility belt. He sucked in a sharp breath, from both the knowledge of what he was going to have to do and the headache pounding fiercely against his skull like a hammer. Adrenaline had wiped away the pain for a while, but it was returning full-force now. He'd have to get some painkillers when he got back, but for now, Wally was the priority.

"Sorry, but I'm gonna to have to pull the bullet out now," Dick muttered, cringing slightly in sympathy. Bullets were _not _fun, especially when there was nothing to dull the pain. He didn't have anything strong enough for a speedster on hand (something that would have to be remedied later) and normally would wait, but Wally just healed too fast. He had to get the bullet out _now_.

Wally understood this and just nodded. He was a hero, after all; he could deal with the pain. All the same, he gritted his teeth as he braced himself for the white-hot agony that would surely come. "Just do it," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

Dick didn't waste another moment, forcing the tweezers into the wound. He attempted to block out the pained sounds Wally was trying to stifle, instead focusing on finding the elusive bullet. He almost had it….another slight shift of the tweezers…there! Triumphantly, he drew the metal projectile out, setting it and the tweezers on the ground. The thirteen-year-old grabbed the gauze, wrapping it around Wally's leg with an effortless ease that came from years of practice. "There," he announced with relief, trying to hide the slight shaking of his hands. "Finished."

The wound was _aching_, throbbing and pulsing like a living thing with every beat of his racing heart. Still, Wally forced a smile on his face, even though it probably ended up looking more like a pained grimace. "Thanks, Dick," he gasped out, attempting to stand.

The acrobat immediately moved to help him, grabbing his right arm and slinging it over his shoulder. Glad to have some of the weight taken off of the damage done to his leg, Wally let out a small sigh. "I'm guessing…we're not waiting….for Uncle Barry…and Bruce?" he panted. Because he still didn't even know if they knew where he was; he had only just realized Dick hadn't been captured when the kid had shown up to rescue him, after all.

"Can't," Dick responded immediately. "I'm not sure when they'll be showing up and we really need to get that leg looked at."

Wally nodded and managed a step or two before tears burned reflexively in his eyes from the pain. He bit back a groan. Already he wanted to collapse to the ground and take some of the weight off of the injury. It was bad enough that he had been shot, but he could _feel _the wound healing, muscle and flesh knitting back together. It definitely wasn't a pleasant feeling, magnifying the pain already there.

Fortunately for the speedster, he didn't have to go much farther before the crooked boards covering the windows let out an ominous groan, followed by a creaking sound from the door. There was a slight pause before both pieces of wood splintered apart, allowing two figures, already in a fighting position, to slip inside.

Dick dropped Wally unceremoniously on the ground as he pulled out a birdarang, knowing the speedster would recover. "Ow," Wally moaned from on the ground. "Way to drop the cripple."

Dick ignored him, blue eyes widening in an odd mixture of relief and apprehension as he recognized the two. Oh, he was so dead.

* * *

Barry was vibrating, unconsciously speeding up each individual molecule as worry consumed him. What if Wally had been hurt? What if they didn't get there in time? What if his nephew disappeared again, this time without a trace? The Scarlet Speedster ignored the sick feeling of dread that rose up inside of him; he didn't know how he was supposed to deal with the fact that his boy was kidnapped, probably injured, and possibly gone already.

He just wanted Wally to be safe in his arms and to make sure that the teenager never left his side again. Ever. Barry groaned, a low sound that was barely audible to anyone within earshot. How on earth was he supposed to keep Wally safe when he was either being targeted, or running into danger headfirst without a thought for his own safety? Barry resigned himself to the fact that it was probably an impossible task. Too bad he was too much of a mother-hen to stop.

"Flash." Bruce's voice cut through the almost panicked frenzy of the speedster's thoughts, the tone steady and firm. "You need to slow down; vibrating like that will only consume the energy you'll need to rescue Wally. You're not helping your nephew any by worrying. We _will _get him out."

Barry was normally easy-going and cheerful. Anyone in the League, or even a random civilian who had been lucky enough to meet the hero, could confirm that. He was often seen with a smile on his face, just so friendly and relaxed. All of that changed when someone he loved was in danger, though. And there were two people in his life that meant more to him than practically anyone else; his wife and his nephew.

So since Wally was quite clearly in danger, Barry was upset, to put it simply. He was itching with the urge to get up and _run, _impatience and actual anger coloring his words as he responded. "Easy for you to say," he snapped back. "It's not _your_ son in danger this time. We could be too late already, Bats, and all we're doing is _sitting here _when we should be _helping him!" _Barry's voice had actually risen to a shout by the end of his short rant, his breaths coming hard and fast.

Bruce stared at him impassively for a moment before sighing, placing a gauntleted hand on the speedster's shoulder in a rare gesture of what could be considered friendship. Because even though Bruce kept up the appearance that he didn't really like Barry Allen, he did have respect for the man. He may be too light-hearted and cheerful, but he would do anything for his family and friends, and always tried to help others, even if it was just by the little things he did. He could be determined, persistent, and strong, and his pure heart led him to almost always focus on justice, not revenge. Bruce wished he could say the same thing, at least about the last part.

"Flash, I know you want to run in there and get Wally out. I would want to do the same thing. But trust me when I say: don't. We don't know the extent of training these men have. We could easily lose Wally by racing in there. Just let me pinpoint his location and figure out exactly who we're dealing with, then we'll go rescue him," Bruce said, trying to put a somewhat placating tone into his voice, not something he usually did as Batman. But Barry obviously needed it.

Barry looked at him for a long moment before he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as the fight left his body. "Sorry, Bats," he apologized. "Sometimes it's hard not to let my emotions get the best of me, especially when we've been sitting out here for hours."

"Barry, it's been roughly ten minutes since we've gotten to this rooftop."

"Which is nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds too long."

Bruce sighed, though he was secretly glad to see the slight grin on Barry's face. At least the speedster was attempting to recover his usual pathetic humor. The Dark Knight resumed tapping into his holographic computer, scanning the surrounding buildings carefully. Nothing. But then a blip appeared on the screen, indicating the location where the heat signatures of humans were. He glanced up at Barry, who was now tapping a foot anxiously on the ground. "I think I found him," he informed.

"Really?" Barry's excitement and relief was unmistakable. "Where is he?"

Bruce gestured to a crumbling apartment building about two roofs down and barely had time to pull out his grapple before Barry was racing down and toward the house, desperation fueling his movements. He didn't even wait before bursting through the door, sure to be racing up the stairs until he found the correct floor. Bruce followed behind, using his grapple to gain the momentum to smash through the window. He had to carefully dodge the pieces of shattered glass that remained in the frame, landing lightly on the floor. Behind the cowl, his eyes carefully analyzed the scene and he couldn't hide his surprise when he saw a certain dark-haired teenager with Wally. _What on _earth _is Dick doing here?! _he thought furiously.

Dick was _supposed _to be _safe_, in the Batcave, not guarding an injured speedster with weapons in his hands. For goodness' sakes, the kid still had a concussion! It had been stupid and reckless for him to come, even if it had seemed to result in a victory. Of course, he didn't have time to launch into the lecture he wanted to before a gust of wind tugged at his strong cape and Barry was at his nephew's side.

"Wally! Oh, thank goodness you're alright," the elder speedster said fervently, enveloping the redhead in a tight, bone-crushing hug.

"Nice…to see you…to, Uncle Barry," Wally managed to get out. "But…I can't…breathe!"

Barry immediately loosened his grip, looking over the fifteen-year-old with worried blue eyes. "Did they hurt you?" he checked. He immediately started examining him for any injuries, frowning when he noticed the ugly purple bruise forming on Wally's cheek. That was nothing compared to the scowl that appeared when he noticed the bullet wound. Upon seeing that, Barry actually _growled_, a low menacing sound that sounded so out of place coming from the normally cheerful speedster. "Who did that?!" he demanded, righteous fury coloring the words.

Wally winced at his uncle's mother-hen tendencies, but he inwardly enjoyed the way it showed how much Uncle Barry cared about him. Not that he had any doubts about that, but still. The reminder was nice and it made him feel oddly safe. "Calm down, Uncle Barry," Wally advised instead, purposely avoiding an answer. "Dick already took care of it." He was careful to keep any obvious pain out of his voice, but it was near impossible to conceal it all and Barry's face immediately softened.

"Alright," he responded, offering Wally a warm smile. "How about we get that leg looked at back at home then?"

"You're home isn't equipped to deal with bullet injuries," Bruce interjected. Barry looked like he was about to argue, but was cut off as the Bat continued speaking. "The Batcave is better prepared and A also knows how to treat them properly. It would be better if both came there first."

Of course, this also stemmed partially from the fact that he wanted Dick at home, safe, as soon as humanly possible and he knew the boy wouldn't want to leave Wally's side. The other reason was that he did care for the teenage speedster at least a little, even though he wouldn't verbally admit it. He had a reputation to keep, after all.

But Wally had been an excellent friend to Dick, especially in these past two months, and considering how often he had been over at the Manor, Bruce had grown accustomed to his presence. It was nice to see some extra light in the otherwise dark halls too, though he wouldn't admit that either.

The logic seemed to make sense to Barry, because he reluctantly nodded. "Fine, but I'll have to call Iris," he agreed.

"You can do that once we reach the cave," Bruce responded, placing a hand on Dick's shoulders in a comforting gesture while simultaneously giving the thirteen-year-old a glare that said "we _will _discuss this later". He still had a full lecture to give on the hazards of being reckless, after all.

Barry nodded, scooping Wally up in his arms. "Uncle Barry!" the redhead protested, squirming slightly. "I can still _walk!" _He couldn't, really, but he didn't like to complain. Besides, he was supposed to be this big tough hero. That was a bit hard to do when he was being carried by his uncle like a small child.

"Kid, you have a bullet in your leg. You're not walking anywhere until you're fixed," Barry responded immediately, voice both firm and caring.

Wally pouted but settled into his uncle's arms all the same; he wasn't going to refuse twice. This definitely felt a lot better than struggling to put weight on his injured leg, and it was nice to feel his arms, strong and safe, around him. It was a concrete reminder that Cadmus wasn't getting them any time soon, something that Wally needed. He leaned into the embrace, resting his head on Uncle Barry's chest and letting the beating of the heart inside lull him into a calm, relaxed state.

* * *

**A/N **Barry and Wally have been re-united now. ^^ Just a heads up, we have reached a bit of a slow point in the story, but the action will pick up after that, I promise. I have some stuff planned that I hope you guys will enjoy. ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: XD I just love him trolling his kidnappers. It's such a Wally thing to do, at least in my mind. I'm glad you liked the ending; I wasn't entirely sure how to end it at first, so...yeah. Oh, happy belated birthday! (Really belated by now - oops) Thanks for the review!

fanficfantasies: Torturing characters is the fun part. ;) Sometimes it kind of makes me feel bad for actually doing that to a character, but...as you said 'whatever works'. Thanks for the review!

Pineapple: I'm glad you liked the last line! I really do think Robin needed to beat them up; it made him feel better, lol. ^^ Thanks for the review!

Guest: Thanks! ^^


	9. Recovery

**A/N **This is a bit of a filler chapter...sorry about that. There's plenty of fluffy bonding (and some action) coming up soon though. ;)

But, since I have been asked: No, I will not stop writing this story because Young Justice is over or Wally is dead. I would never do that to you guys, or to myself. I love this story too much to just give up on it.

~Aiva

* * *

Wally groaned as a bright yellow light hit his eyelids, piercing the emerald orbs even though they were closed. He let an incoherent mumble of discontent, attempting to bury himself further into his nice warm pillow. …Only to realize that it wasn't a pillow, and he wasn't at home in his bed at all. The speedster blearily forced his eyes open, trying to organize his sleep-smeared thoughts. Pain struck him like a bulldozer and Wally gritted his teeth, settling himself further into his uncle's arms as groggy mind struggled to piece together exactly what had happened.

He must have dozed off at some point, the light of the zeta beam waking him up. Half-wanting to go back to sleep, it was a bit of a struggle to force himself back into a state of alertness.

Dick noticed he was awake and offered the speedster a tiny grin. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Sleeping Beauty," he teased.

Wally frowned, sticking out his tongue good-naturedly. Really, he was just happy Dick was still able to joke around. He had been worried that the knowledge that Cadmus was hunting them again would have had a more negative impact. But taking a closer look, Wally could make out the fear and pain hidden in his best friend's baby blues, the tightened skin around his lips that meant he was stressed, the little wrinkle by his left eyebrow that formed whenever he was thinking hard.

Wally had become fairly good at reading Dick and could tell the kid was putting up a brave front; a pretty impressive one at that. That didn't change the fact that it still was a front; most of it, at least. Wally never would have guessed that though if he didn't know Dick as well as he did. He seemed like the normal, trolling thirteen-year-old he was supposed to be on the outside.

"Shut up," Wally grumbled, though there wasn't any real irritation in the words. He hissed suddenly as Barry unexpectedly moved forward, walking into the Batcave. The chill of the air hit Wally immediately, sending a slight shiver down his spine and dotting his skin with chill bumps. The sharp, faded cries of bats rung through the air and multiple trophies adorned the walls, souvenirs of past battles and victories.

Wally didn't pay much attention to any of this though; he had been in the Batcave plenty of times before. His focus was riveted solely on Alfred, who was standing next to an immaculately made medical bed, a plate of cookies beside him. Wally could feel his mouth start to water and his stomach let out a gurgle that seemed much louder amidst the machines and stalactites of the Batcave.

Wally's cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet, the vibrant red hue matching his hair perfectly and making his freckles disappear for a second. No matter how often it happened, it was still a bit embarrassing to have his stomach make the loud sound of a dying whale when the room was quiet.

Barry chuckled, the soft laugh making the arms around Wally shift as he walked forward. Carefully, with the tenderness only a father could possess, the elder speedster set his nephew down on the medical bed, ruffling his hair affectionately before stepping away.

"I've got to call your Aunt Iris," he explained, pulling down his cowl and putting the phone to his ear before he had even finished the sentence.

Wally nodded as he watched his uncle walk away, a part of him wanting to call out and beg the man to stay. But he didn't, because he was sure he could handle a simple examination. He wasn't some rookie hero anymore; no, he was Kid Flash, a speedster, and he could be strong.

Stomach growling at him again, Wally quickly gave in and reached out for the tantalizing desserts sitting so close beside him. His eager fingertips had nearly closed on one before the tray was tugged away. Wally gaped in the direction it had gone, empty stomach mourning the loss of this opportunity to eat. He glanced up to see Bruce holding the tray, looking as impassive as ever.

"You don't get to eat until you've been examined by both me and Alfred," Bruce said firmly. He knew that Wally had eaten a little during his brief time in captivity, so the kid wouldn't starve. No, depriving him of cookies would just make sure he got through the exam without whining too much.

"But-" Wally started, his gaze still riveted on the plate of baked treats.

"Not until you've been examined," Bruce repeated, interrupting him before the speedster could really start complaining.

Dick sat down on the bed next to Wally, giving his friend a small smirk. "That's just his way of saying he cares," he explained.

"Aw, the big bad Bats _does _have a heart!" Wally grinned.

Bruce shot the redhead a glare before turning his gaze to ebony sitting beside him, taking a breath to start the lecture he had prepared. "Dick, what you did was foolish, reckless, and could have gotten you killed. Do you care about your health and safety at all? I told you specifically to stay put, yet you went out despite the risks. Do you want to be captured by Cadmus again?! Because that's what's going to happen if you continue pulling stunts like this!"

Dick flinched into Wally's side, who responded by immediately wrapping a reassuring arm around the smaller boy. "Bruce, you would've done the same thing!" Dick protested, a matching scowl settling across his face.

Wally could see Bruce open his mouth to continue with what was sure to be a very long, frustrated lecture, and the speedster decided to take action. "Back off," Wally interrupted, probably one of the few people to ever say something like that to the Dark Knight of Gotham City. "Dick was doing what he thought was right, and considering he managed to knock out everyone _and_ save me before you even got there, I'd say he did a pretty good job too. We're both injured and Dick has been scared of Cadmus coming after us ever since we escaped. And now that they have, all you can do is rub it in his face?! That's not what he needs! He needs you to be there for him, to reassure him you'll always be there to protect him." Wally gave him a hard look. "I thought you would have known that already."

_Oh man, Bruce is going to kill me now. Uncle Barry is going to come in to find my remains being eaten by the bats, _Wally thought nervously. He was bracing himself for the Bat's wrath that would surely follow when sharp pain shot through his injured leg. "Ouch!" he yelped, jerking away instinctively.

"My apologies, Master Wally," Alfred responded. "I had to inspect the wound myself." He pulled out a needle and thread. "Unfortunately, it seems it requires stitches."

The tension in the room eased only fractionally as Alfred started stitching up the bullet wound quickly and efficiently. Wally gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the odd, painful sensation of the needle sliding through his flesh. "You will need to put weight on the leg as little as possible for at least two weeks," Alfred instructed, before handing him a few pills Wally recognized as painkillers.

Wally swallowed them and then nodded, though inside he was silently despairing over the fact that he wouldn't be able to run for _two weeks. _For a speedster, that was one of the worst things that could possibly happen.

It was made worse by the impending danger that hung above him like an anvil, ready to drop. What if Cadmus came after them again? They weren't going to give up after just one attempt. It would be a lot harder to fight them and escape if he couldn't even run. How was he supposed to protect himself and Dick? …He hated being injured.

"Thanks, Alfie," he sighed, before glancing apprehensively up at Bruce. There was no way that the man was going to let him off so easily. Luckily for Wally, that was when Barry chose to walk back over.

"Your Aunt Iris said you better be okay and to get home as soon as-" He quickly picked up on the tension in the air, so thick you could cut it with a butter knife, and the elder speedster paused, glancing around in slight confusion. "Okay, what'd I miss?" Barry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Bruce answered. "But Wally will need to stay off of his leg for two weeks, minimum."

"But he will be okay, right?" Barry checked, glancing over at his nephew anxiously.

"I'm fine, Uncle Barry," Wally insisted. He did feel better now that his leg was no longer dripping blood and the painkillers were in his system. And he was secretly relieved Bruce had seemed to let the matter go. He had expected to be lectured for his little rant there for sure.

As if sensing his thoughts, Dick nudged his side lightly. "Told you he doesn't hate you," he murmured.

Really, Bruce wouldn't be taking it as well as he was if it weren't for the fact that Wally was right, at least a little bit. Dick needed Bruce right now, not Batman. If anything, he felt a bit jealous that Wally was able to pick up on that before he did.

"In that case, we really need to be heading back, Wally," Barry said. The Batcave became incredibly silent immediately, Dick and Wally glancing at each other.

"Actually…do you think that Dick could spend the night?" Wally asked slowly, voice a bit hesitant.

"No," Bruce answered without missing a beat. "Security is much better at the manor, and-"

"Please, Bruce?" Dick pleaded softly. He really didn't want to leave Wally's side, not any time soon, at least.

"There's plenty of room for both of you," Barry offered.

Bruce sighed, crossing his arms. He wanted Dick _here_, where he was much safer. He didn't want to risk losing his son, not again. After the death of his parents, losing the few still close to him was his biggest fear by far. But at the same time, he could see how badly Dick wanted – no, _needed_ – this.

It wasn't any different than how the boy would ask to sleep in Bruce's bed after a particularly horrifying mission. At least this way he could still keep an eye on Dick. "…Fine," he agreed reluctantly. Dick and Wally's faces lit up immediately. "But Dick's not leaving until I check him over for injuries," Bruce added. There was plenty of time between then and evening, after all, and Bruce wanted to make the most of it.

Reassured by the knowledge that he would soon be rejoining Wally, Dick nodded. He could handle that.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Wally asked, concern creasing his brow as he looked over at his little brother.

"'Course I am. I'll be seeing you in a few hours tops either way," Dick answered.

Wally ruffled his hair affectionately with his free hand. "You know where to find me if you need anything," he said, pulling away from the embrace he had previously held Dick in.

"Come on, kid," Barry said, scooping his nephew up easily. "Let's go."

"Aw, Uncle Barry! Can't I at least use crutches or something?" Wally complained. He really didn't mind being held by his uncle all that much, but it was still a bit embarrassing that he couldn't even walk. "It's not _that _bad."

"You got shot in the leg," Barry reminded gently. "We have some crutches at home you can use, but until then there's no way I'm putting you down."

Wally let out a small huff but settled into the arms holding him anyway. He wasn't going to be falling asleep this time though. Barry just chuckled as they entered the zeta tube.

"_Flash 04. Kid Flash B-03,"_ the computerized voice announced before the familiar flash of yellow light teleported them away back to Central City.

* * *

**A/N **As I said, filler chapter. There's going to be some fluff in the next few chapters, but the main action I have planned should happen in around 3-4 chapters, I think, so just hold on until then. ;)

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

fanficfantasies: Chocolate pie? Oh man...I'm _definitely _jealous (though the ice crystals in it make me feel a little bit better). ;) Thanks for the review!

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: I'm already missing the show...this Saturday just felt weird without a new episode. Not to mention the fact that I'm still a bit upset over the fact that Wally _died. _I mean, that was just cruel; even I wouldn't kill off Wally like that. Okay, maybe I would, but only in a one-shot, not in an actual series. Yes, I'll be writing more stories, don't worry. I'm not planning on giving up any time soon. ;) Thanks for the review!

Maddie Seth: For now...yeah, I like angst a bit too much. I like the comfort that can come after that though too...Anyway, yes, Flash and Batman are amazing. ^^ Thanks for the review!

Guest: When Wally died, I cried. But I won't quit, don't worry. Wally isn't dead here, after all. ;) Thanks for the review!

Guest...#2?: Yeah, it does seem like it's been a while. I try to update every 2 weeks though. But, as requested, here is a new chapter. ^^ Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Concern

**A/N **I live! Sorry it took so long to update; I ran into a case of writers' block and then was busy for a while.

~Aiva

* * *

The zeta tube had deposited them back at Central City within a matter of seconds, something Wally was grateful for. He was actually starting to feel a bit tired now, something he blamed on the painkillers Alfred had given him. Whatever they had been, they had definitely worked. The previous burning agony in his leg was more of a dull ache now, something he could function with much easier. The pain still grated on his nerves though, serving as a constant reminder to the fact he wouldn't be able to run for at least two weeks. Wally would've much preferred to be shot in the arm or something; he didn't need his arms as much as he needed his legs, not when it came to running.

"You okay, kid?" Barry checked, shooting a quick concerned glance down at his nephew.

"Other than the bullet that was in my leg, I'm great," Wally answered with false cheerfulness, the barest hint of sarcasm edging the words.

Barry chuckled a little. "I know it seems bad, but you'll be healed and ready to go before you know it," he assured as he started the run towards home. He tried to make it as smooth as possible, for Wally's sake; a bullet wound really wasn't any fun and he didn't want to jostle it more than necessary.

Wally didn't respond, letting out a small breath as the world blurred into the familiar smears of colors and shapes that came with traveling at super speed. A brief sonic boom let the redhead know they broke the sound barrier, something his mentor seemed to be able to do much easier than he could. Brushing that off, he focused on picking out different street names and buildings until they finally reached the welcome destination of home.

If Wally had been younger and less experienced, he might have trembled a bit at the sight. After all, he _had _just been kidnapped. But stuff like that was something he'd become, sadly, very used to in his years as a hero. He wouldn't deny the fact that he smiled though, a wide grin that lit up his face completely. It was always an amazing feeling to come back home, the place where Wally couldn't help but feel the safest.

They went in through the backdoor, which Iris must've left unlocked because Barry didn't have to knock or vibrate through the piece of wood in order to get inside.

Barry set Wally down on the couch carefully as soon as they reached the living room, with slow, tender movements. He ruffled the teenager's fiery locks affectionately as Iris walked in, green eyes brightening when they spotted her nephew. She hugged him almost immediately, folding him into a warm, secure embrace. Wally closed his eyes, taking a moment to soak in the familiar comforting sensation.

His face pressed into her shoulder, he could just make out a whiff of lavender, the scent of her preferred perfume. He could tell when Uncle Barry joined in because the smell of generic shampoo mingled with the original aroma and Wally started to feel a little like he was in the middle of a sandwich being squished together. He didn't complain though; he actually really enjoyed it. Here, in the space between his aunt and his uncle, he felt like nothing could ever touch him. He felt absolutely and completely safe, reassured by the knowledge that they would always be there to support him no matter what. And that was all he needed.

"Wallace Rudolph West, one of these days you're going to give me a heart attack," Iris murmured into his messy red hair. "I'm beginning to think you make it your personal goal to get into as much trouble as possible every day."

Wally grinned, familiar with this routine. Aunt Iris would give him a hug, possibly cook some food, check him for any possible injuries, and then chastise him lightly for making her worry in the first place. Not necessarily in that order. He knew it was just her way of expressing relief and he didn't really mind. It was nice to be fussed over like this every once in a while.

"Sorry, Aunt Iris," he apologized, attempting to shift positions slightly. All it served to do was cause one leg to knock into the other, resulting in a jolt of sudden agony as the wound was jostled. He hissed a little through gritted teeth, barely remembering to keep the sound quiet. It was enough to alert Iris though, and rouse all of her mother-hen tendencies.

"Where are you hurt?" she demanded, pulling away to get a better look at him. She hadn't really bothered immediately because she was preoccupied with welcoming the previously missing teen home, but now she could dedicate her full attention to any possible injuries he had sustained. Her fingers skimmed lightly over the mottled bruise on his cheek almost immediately after, her lips pursing as a worried crinkle appeared by her right eye. She didn't comment immediately, instead scanning the rest of him. Wally braced himself for her reaction to the white bandage around his leg and the stitches beneath.

"What happened?" she asked in a deceptively calm voice. Wally knew she was brimming with maternal frustration inside though and offered her a reassuring smile, thankful that the painkillers were strong enough to mask the worst of it.

"Uh…well, while I was tied up, Ugly kind of shot me," Wally explained slowly.

"'Ugly'?" Barry questioned, raising one eyebrow. Wally's cheeks flushed a subtle shade of scarlet.

"Yeah…I was bored and got tired of calling them all thugs, so I named them. That one was Ugly. The others were Moron and Stupid," Wally explained, a bit awkwardly. It sounded a whole lot more idiotic out loud than it had in his head. That didn't stop Barry from chuckling softly under his breath though or the slight grin that appeared on the redhead's face in response.

Iris just shook her head, a smile playing on her lips even as she inspected the wound. "Alfred went ahead and stitched it up and gave me some painkillers. I can run in two weeks, no biggie," Wally went on. It was a big deal, actually, but he wasn't going to say how the idea of no running was pressing on him like a suffocating weight, threatening to drown him. There was nothing either of them could do about it, after all, and he really didn't need to give them anything else to worry about.

Iris leaned forward a bit to press her lips to her nephew's forehead in a gentle, affectionate kiss. "As long as you're sure," she murmured, giving him that soul-piercing look she had mastered within the first week Wally had come to live with him. Her green eyes seemed to bore through all of his masks and layers, picking him apart until she could see what was underneath. It was a bit disconcerting, but not entirely unpleasant since concern was also sparking in their emerald depths.

Wally gave her a slightly crooked grin, hoping it would reassure her that all was well for now. "I am," he promised.

The familiar beep of an oven cut through the air unexpectedly and the teenager suddenly became aware of the most amazing, mouth-watering aroma. It wafted through the air, tantalizing and delicious. Sweet vanilla undertones, half-melted chocolate chips…oh, he could practically taste them already. He realized then he had never actually gotten to eat any of the cookies back at the Batcave and his desire to eat some now was immediately magnified. A pang of hunger shot through his stomach, a rather loud growl accompanying it.

Iris resisted the urge to laugh softly as her nephew's face took on a wistful, almost desperate look as he turned to face the kitchen. "I'll bring you some cookies," she smiled, not wanting him to have to stand yet. She was happy to do this small task for her boy and was rewarded by seeing Wally's face light up.

"Thanks, Aunt Iris," he beamed. "You're the best." A plate supporting a large tower of cookies was soon in front of him, the amazing scent even stronger now. Wally was pretty sure he was close to actually starting to drool now and, not for the first time, was incredibly glad that his aunt baked whenever she was nervous or concerned. That insured that there was almost always some sort of treat to come home to after a mission, something that was greatly appreciated by both of the speedsters in the house.

Not bothering to wait for them to cool or anything, he dug in, shoving cookies into his eagerly waiting mouth. Crumbs flecked the corner of his lips but his attention was solely devoted to the warm, familiar taste of the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Incoherent mumbles of pleasure escaped him occasionally as he depleted the store of baked treats in front of him. He came up for air only when they had disappeared completely, the edge taken away from his hunger.

Wally wasn't sure he could ever actually feel full, but he at least felt satisfied now. "Thanks, Aunt Iris," he repeated, setting the now empty plate down on a nearby coffee table to get it out of the way. He licked his lips to make sure all traces of chocolate had been removed, giving her another tiny smile. Wally did feel a bit embarrassed and sheepish that he had to eat so much so fast, but he ignored it, knowing that his aunt and uncle would surely understand. They had been living with his metabolism for quite a while now, after all.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she responded, glancing over him once more. "Is there anything else you need? Some water? A blanket? A-"

"I'm _fine, _Aunt Iris," Wally interrupted, cheeks flushing a subtle shade of red. He did appreciate her efforts to watch over him, but he really didn't want to send her running around the house with a bunch of requests until she finally drew a line somewhere. That was just unfair to her. He hesitated a bit before continuing. "Well…actually, do you think you could bring me the crutches?" he asked. That way he'd be able to get up on his own at least.

"I got them," Barry interjected, standing up and moving over to the closet where they were stored. He was back within seconds, leaning them carefully against the couch next to Wally. The redhead took them carefully, checking to make sure they were at the proper height before heaving himself off of the couch. Noticing the questioning glances of both his guardians, he flashed them a wide, reassuring grin. "Just heading to the bathroom," he explained before moving towards the indicated room.

Once inside, he shut the door tightly and locked it, a slight click indicating that no one would be able to open the door now. Breathing out a small sigh, Wally glanced into the mirror, frowning as he got his first glimpse of the ugly bruise on his cheek. It wouldn't take very long to heal (much less that his bullet wound, anyway) but right now it still throbbed whenever he gingerly touched it. Dismissing it for now, Wally allowed his façade to crumble.

He leaned against the wall, taking deep, heavy breaths as emotions swirled up inside of him. Cadmus was back. Cadmus was _back. _Repeating it didn't make it any easier to hear and Wally shook his head in an effort to clear it of the memories creeping up on him. It didn't work and they washed over his mind anyway, unlocking a slew of flashbacks and unwelcome emotions. Wally bit his lip, stopping only when he realized it was getting to the point where he was almost drawing blood. He touched the stinging skin with his fingertips before allowing his hands to drop back to their appointed positions on the crutches.

Honestly, Wally was scared. He knew what Cadmus was capable of and didn't want to experience any more of that ever again. They had kidnapped him and Dick, torturing them both. They had killed Hope, his little sister. A dry sob swelled up within him but he swallowed it back down, not wanting to risk his aunt or uncle hearing it and investigating what was wrong. He still had that happy, strong mask to retain, a mask that he needed in order to not fall apart completely.

He had hoped this day would never come, but looking back, Wally supposed it was inevitable. Still, it was a terrifying thought, to know he was being hunted. He wasn't stupid, after all. He knew fully well that Cadmus would be making another attempt on both him and Dick, and they would probably do it soon.

But he couldn't dwell on it right now and Wally forced it to the back of his mind, locking it up firmly. "Get it together, West," he muttered to himself fiercely. "You'll be fine. No sense worrying about Cadmus right now. You're both safe."

Still, he felt slightly queasy inside and he struggled to ignore the feeling. Pasting another grin on his face, he finished in there quickly and walked back out into the living room – well, hobbled back out. It was difficult to do much other than that when one was on crutches. In his mind, Wally managed to convince himself that they were fine and there was nothing to worry about, though it seemed almost like a superficial belief. He clung to it though, refusing to let it go.

They were safe, they were home, and had the entire League and Team backing them up if Cadmus tried something again. There was nothing to worry about.

Still, a small nagging doubt in the back of his mind refused to disappear, a doubt that seemed to revolve almost solely on Cadmus, telling him that this was far from over.

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, I repeated that last line on purpose. I kind of like it, and it's important; you'll see. One more filler chapter after this (I think) and then the action'll pick up again, I promise. I'll try not to take so long to update again.

And we're almost to 200 reviews! That's awesome you guys; this is only the 10th chapter. ^^ I bet we can make it the rest of the way with this update too.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: Saturday's just feel empty now that I'm not waking up to a new episode. *sigh* I have no life...but I'm okay with that. ;) Thank you so much for the review!

fanficfantasies: Thanks for the review! And yeah, he died; sorry, didn't mean to spoil the series finale. He was trying to counter the energy produced by this machine that was disrupting Earth's gravitational field, I think, (which would destroy the entire planet). He was running around it with Barry and Bart, and since Wally was slower, the excess energy was using him as an outlet. Wally literally faded from existence right in front of his uncle's eyes. Since the series was then cancelled, we don't know if he would've been brought back or not, so yeah, it's permanent...

Maddie Seth: It's alright; I ended up crying a bit too. That show really is an emotional rollercoaster sometimes. I swear, he only got to see Artemis again for ten minutes before he died. That's just...cruel. And now we won't know if he'd ever be brought back. Darn. Anyway, thanks for the review! ^^

Guest: I saw that message, and nearly dropped my laptop. Then I proceeded to text all of my friends to ramble about the news. ^^ I'm really hoping things work out; a third season would be _f__antastic_. Thanks for the review and the news!

Guest #2: Thanks so much! ^^

Guest #3: This soon enough? ;) Sorry for taking so long!


	11. Strength

**A/N **Only one more filler chapter left! And the next one is only half a filler chapter too. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

Once the two speedsters were gone, Dick allowed his shoulders to slump forward. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. Who could blame him though? He had been in a car crash that nearly resulted in his kidnapping, found out that his best friend had actually been kidnapped, defied Bruce's orders to rescue Wally, all the while having a concussion. He was used to fighting with injuries of course; that was part of being a vigilante in Gotham. But that didn't change the fact that it was still draining, especially when facing a major baddie, and he definitely considered Cadmus that now.

Not to mention there was the lingering sick feeling that Dick always experienced when he knew he was being hunted by a villain. Still, he flashed Bruce a reassuring smile when he noticed his guardian's concerned gaze. Bruce could be such a mother-hen, in his own, sometimes awkward, way; he was pretty sure Wally (and half the League) called it his "DaddyBats" mode.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked.

"Fine," Dick lied. He wasn't, really, but nothing was severe enough to merit a lot of concern.

"Dick," Bruce said in a firm tone that left little room for argument, "Don't lie to me."

"It really isn't that bad, Bruce," Dick sighed. "I have a headache, but that's about it." Well, and a few bruises and minor scrapes, but they weren't even bleeding anymore, and he hated putting on any bandages he didn't absolutely need. It made him feel like his movements were limited.

"Do you need painkillers?" Bruce checked, even though he was already accepting the white pills from Alfred.

Dick's first instinct was to refuse, but his head _was _throbbing and the painkillers were already right in front of him. It would be pointless not to accept them now. "Thanks," he muttered, swallowing them dry.

"Alfred, would you-" Bruce started, turning to face the British butler.

"I have already taken the liberty of letting Master Dick's school know he will not be attending for the next week," Alfred interrupted, having been around Bruce long enough to know what the man was going to ask.

"Better make it two weeks," Bruce frowned, glancing at his charge.

"Bruce!" Dick protested. "I can't miss that much school!" Okay, he could catch up with the missed work fairly easily, but missing one week was bad enough. He couldn't let Cadmus intimidate him into staying home, even if a part of him wanted to.

Besides, he hated to deal with the questions he was going to be asked; the scrutiny he received as Bruce Wayne's adopted son was a huge pain in the butt. Dick was sadly used to dealing with that, but the amount of attention he would receive would increase ten-fold if he missed an entire _two weeks._ It didn't help that the attempted kidnapping was probably all over the news already. Stupid reporters, sticking their noses into everyone else's business.

Maybe it was the pleading look Dick allowed to enter into his baby blue eyes, or maybe it was something else, but whatever the reason, it was good enough to make Bruce relent. The man sighed, the exhale heavy and resigned. "Fine. One week. But the first sign of trouble and I'll change it to a month," he negotiated.

Dick grinned, knowing that was as good as he would ever get. "Thanks, Bruce," he responded.

"Dick…how are you feeling?" Bruce asked after a momentary lull in the conversation, filled with nothing but the hum of machinery and the distant screeching of bats.

"You already asked me that," Dick frowned, cocking his head in slight confusion.

"No, I mean…emotionally," the billionaire explained, albeit a bit awkwardly. He really wasn't used to dealing with feelings more than he had to, and initiating a conversation like this must've been difficult. Comfort, he could do, but actually _talking _about it…that was a bit different, somehow.

"I'm fine," Dick insisted, shifting uncomfortably on the medical bed. He really wanted to get his head straight before he had this conversation; with all that had been happening, he hadn't gotten the chance yet.

"It's okay to admit you're scared."

Dick's hands curled into defensive fists and he straightened up, gritting his teeth. "I'm not scared," he argued immediately.

"I can't help you until you say what's wrong, Dickie-bird," Bruce attempted. Because, darn it, he knew that this whole thing had to be bothering his adoptive son, and he wasn't going to stand for it. He wasn't about to let Dick keep everything bottled up inside, like Bruce himself did. "I-"

"Nothing's wrong!"

"Dick-"

His resolve crumbled and the acrobat forced himself to abandon his rigid posture, huffing out a sigh and absently playing with a wrinkle in the sheets. "Okay!" he gave in. "Fine. I _am _scared. I'm terrified out of my mind, actually; Cadmus is hunting me and there's nothing I can do about it but sit still and hope they don't succeed, 'cause if they do, I'm not going to get back home easily, if I do at all. I'm scared of what they might do to get me, and what they might do once they have me, because whatever it is is sure to be a disaster, _heavy_ on the 'dis'."

Dick took a deep breath, looking up to steadily meet Bruce's gaze. "But I'm sick of being scared. I've been targeted before, by some pretty big baddies too. I can handle it, like I always have. I think I still _am _scared, honestly, but more than that: I'm _mad. _I'm not going to break like last time; I wasn't prepared then. I am now, and they're going to regret it when they come back for me, because I'm not going down without a fight." Determination glinted from deep within the azure depths of his eyes, a flame that would not be easily quenched.

Bruce studied him for a moment with a piercing gaze, and feeling vulnerable after such an open confession of all his emotions, Dick looked down at his feet, pretending to find great interest in the sneakers he was wearing. "You're not 'going down' at all," Bruce assured finally. "Even if, by some strange misfortune, they _do _happen to take you, I'll get you back."

"You didn't last time," Dick murmured. Even as he said the words, he hated them, no matter how true they were. Bruce had _tried, _at least; that had to count for something.

"Like you said, I wasn't prepared then. I am now." Bruce gently tilted up Dick's chin so the boy met his gaze. "Trust me when I say I'll _never _stop looking for you, and I'll always find you."

"What if you find me too late?" Dick asked, voice suddenly a lot quieter.

"I won't," Bruce responded firmly, the sheer conviction in his tone leaving no room for argument. "Just hold on until I get there, alright?"

Dick offered him a small, slightly crooked grin. "You got it," he nodded, his normally cheerful and strong aura returning a little bit. He wasn't one to let things keep him down for very long, not most of the time.

"Might I suggest Master Dick come upstairs to help pack his bags for tonight?" Alfred broke in. It would probably do the boy good to get out of this damp and gloomy cave, after all.

Dick nodded and hopped down, a smile stealing across his face as he remembered a time where he would've jumped at the seemingly sudden appearances of the butler. How Alfred managed to move so silently was beyond him; even Bruce, the _Batman, _wasn't as quiet as Alfred, when he let his focus slip. Alfred, quite simply, was awesome. That was a truth Dick had come to realize early on in his years at the manor.

Dick headed up to his room, following the British gentleman, who immediately moved towards the closet and pulling out a suitcase. "I think I can handle it," the acrobat assured, honestly not wanting Alfred to see the few dirty clothes he had forgotten to toss in the hamper strewn across the floor by his bed any longer than necessary. He hadn't missed the look Alfred had given him upon seeing the mess, and Dick made a silent promise to clean that up next chance he got.

"Besides, if I know Bruce, I think he could use the help more. He can pack a survival kit just fine, but when it comes to his own clothes…" Bruce really did used to have some sort of issue with packing; he would either pack way too little or way too much. He had gotten better over the years, but Alfred still didn't completely trust him to his own devices yet. Besides, it was just fun to tease him about it.

"Indeed," Alfred agreed, chuckling a bit. "I shall leave you to it, then, Master Dick."

Dick packed quickly, pulling out his clothes and folding them hastily to fit in his spacious suitcase. He paused before deciding to pack Peanut as well. There was no harm in it; Wally had seen him sleeping with the stuffed elephant many times, and the toy was special. He took a moment to bury his face in the animal's soft fabric, catching the faint whiff of circus smell that refused to fade completely. He carefully set it in the suitcase, letting out a small sigh as he stepped into the bathroom to grab his toothbrush.

Dick glanced into the large mirror, catching sight of his tired blue eyes. He groaned, rubbing his temples; he really did look awful. No wonder Bruce was being so protective. The acrobat splashed some water over his face, relishing the touch of cool water against his warm skin. Feeling at least a little more refreshed, he allowed himself a moment to really get his emotions in check. He had meant what he said out there, about being sick of being scared. It was taking a minute for his emotions to fully catch up with the words though, and he needed a moment to just be able to slow down and breathe.

He could handle this. He knew he could, because he always had before. He could take whatever Cadmus would try and throw at him because he was a hero; he was _Robin, _the Boy Wonder. But more than that, he was Dick Grayson, a circus kid who had seen far too much in his life but smiled anyway because he knew he couldn't let the tragedies in life win. He was strong; stronger than any stupid evil scientist, anyway.

There was still a tiny kernel of doubt inside of him insisting that there was almost no way he could evade them forever, but Dick refused to listen. Things would all work out; everyone would be safe in the end. He _had _to believe that, because as soon as he lost hope everything would crumble to pieces.

They would beat this.

* * *

**A/N **Not my best chapter, but I had a lot of trouble writing this part. I think I'm just looking forward to when things start to pick up again. ;) So sorry for the shorter length; I'll try to make the next one longer.

IMPORTANT NOTE: My current beta, Sairey13, won't be able to beta me for a little while. So if anyone is willing to beta this story temporarily, please review or shoot me a PM; just let me know. Thanks so much!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: It's always great to hear a character is actually in character and realistic, so thank you for that. ^^ Well, really, thank you for your entire review. They always make my day. :)

Maddie Seth: They really did need a make up scene...darn show not giving it to us. ;) Anyway, yeah, lol, poor Dick is only doing a little better than Wally is right now, probably because he has more experience being hunted. Gotham is waaay more ruthless than Central will ever be. ;) Thanks for the review!


	12. Watching

**A/N **I am a horrible person. I was trying to get some things done before writing this up, and then I ran into writers' block. Of course, that's still no excuse for leaving you guys hanging for over a month. I'm really sorry about that.

That being said, I would like to thank my awesome beta, caylender, for helping me out with this chapter. They've been so incredibly helpful!

~Aiva

* * *

Streaks of gentle orange and red streaked the otherwise blue sky; the sun's rays inched closer to the horizon, promising the familiar shadows of night. Wally, oblivious to the hour, was absently eating popcorn as he surfed through the different television channels. He probably looked like a huge couch potato just sitting around in the living room, but there really wasn't much else he could do, considering the fact that he was on crutches. He had tried reading earlier, but he couldn't seem to focus on the words. Video games didn't sound very appealing either. TV was his only other option.

His mind had been lost to the colorful screen for almost half an hour when there was a knock at the door. Wally jerked in slight surprise, accidentally flinging a few popcorn pieces onto the floor. He groaned, leaning over to pick them up and to plop them right back in the bowl. It wasn't like the germs could hurt him, not with his super-fast metabolism, and Aunt Iris kept the floor clean anyway. In his mind, it was perfectly acceptable to eat off the floor - at least in situations like this.

Wally turned the television off, reaching for his crutches before he heard the door open and Bruce's commanding voice. The speedster perked up upon realizing Dick was finally here, and he grabbed his crutches anyway, slipping them under his arms and hobbling over to the door. "Hey, Dick," he greeted warmly, wanting to pull his friend into a hug but unable to do so. Stupid injury, getting in the way of everything…

"Hey, Wally," Dick responded, grinning right back at his ginger-headed friend. "How are you holding up?"

Wally shuffled back to make sure there was plenty of room for the two to walk inside as Barry let them in. "Pretty good," he assured. "What about you?"

"Same," Dick promised.

Aunt Iris chose that moment to appear, wiping her hands on a towel she just-so-happened to be carrying. A bit of flour smudged her cheek and the sleeves of her shirt, and sauce was being wiped from the tips of her fingers, lingering from her efforts at making dinner. "Hello, Bruce," she welcomed, a friendly smile on her face. "Hi, Dick."

"Hello, Aunt Iris," Dick smiled back, leaning in to give the kind-hearted woman a quick hug.

"I'll take your things," Barry offered, reaching out to grab the suitcases. "I'll put them in the guest bedroom."

"Thanks, Uncle Barry," Dick responded, smile growing.

Bruce was almost surprised at how naturally Dick fit into the Allen household. He knew his ward spent a considerable amount of time with Wally, but still…it was like Barry and Iris really were relatives of his and vice versa. "Thank you," he echoed, pleased that Dick had remembered to say it before Bruce himself did. Alfred's lessons on the importance of manners had certainly left an impact of some sort.

"Have you already eaten?" Iris asked, glancing at them curiously. Dick shook his head, and she smiled at him. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes then." She planted an affectionate kiss on his head, like he was just another nephew. "Nice to see you again, Dick."

Wally glanced at Dick, and the two nodded, some sort of silent message passing between them. "Bruce, I'm going to be in Wally's room, okay?" Dick checked.

Bruce hesitated, at loathe to let his adoptive son out of his sight for one minute. But at the same time, he could trust Wally to do whatever it took to keep him safe. Wally had proven himself to be very reliable in those regards, at least. So he reluctantly nodded, ruffling Dick's hair affectionately before allowing the lad to go.

The two boys didn't waste any time before slipping up the stairs; although Wally's progress was much, much more awkward than Dick's. Dick opened Wally's door, not even needing to think before remembering which one it was. He then proceeded to flop down onto the bed, closely followed by the speedster. Wally turned to face him, emerald eyes meeting blue.

"Dick, answer me honestly this time, okay? How are you doing?" Wally asked, concern evident.

"I'm seriously okay; a lot better than I was. I got everything worked out; I'm ready to deal with whatever comes," Dick assured firmly. "Besides, it's just Cadmus. It's not like it's…" Dr. Anthony Lawrence.

Dick didn't need to finish his sentence for Wally to know exactly who he was talking about.

"Yeah," Wally agreed softly. "At least he's gone now."

There was a moment of heavy silence before Dick met his friend's eyes. "What about you? I know your leg's bugging you," he explained.

Wally shrugged. "I'm not going to lie, I've been better," he admitted. "But I've also been a lot worse. I'll be okay; it's just two weeks."

"Wally, has anyone told you you're a horrible liar?" Dick watched as Wally visibly deflated, the speedster letting out a heavy huff as his shoulders slumped. "We've been best friends for years," he continued, nudging his friend with his elbow lightly, "I know how much you need to run."

"Well, there's nothing I can really do about that right now, is there?" Wally pointed out. "I'll manage."

The corners of Dick's lips twitched upward in a quick ghost of a smile as he recognized his own words being used.

"But what about you?" Wally asked, trying to encourage the young acrobat to actually open up some. "Cadmus tortured you way more than they tortured me. There's no way you're completely fine all of the sudden."

Wally spoke softly, something Dick normally hated, especially when it was done by other people. But he knew the speedster wasn't doing it out of a fear Dick would break, like a fragile piece of glass. No, Wally was doing it because he recognized the fact that these were memories that weren't to be mentioned lightly. These were quiet memories that haunted the night, and they deserved to be whispered, not shouted.

The young vigilante took a breath before responding, "I never said I was completely fine, just that I'm ready. And I am." Dick looked at Wally, a serious look etched into his cerulean eyes as he echoed the conversation he had with Bruce earlier. "I'm sick of being scared. This isn't this first time I've dealt with big baddies, remember? I'm prepared this time, and I can take whatever they try to throw at me."

Wally was often amazed by the younger bird, something that wasn't very hard to understand, considering all the things he was capable of. Dick was able to go up against some of the worst villains known to man, despite the fact that he was only a human. At thirteen, he was one of the most accomplished acrobats in the world, if not the most accomplished.

But one of the most impressive things about him was his unquenchable determination. No matter how many times the world tried to knock him down, he always got right back up. One would think he would just give up after everything; his parents' deaths, being captured and tortured repeatedly by multiple villains, seeing everyone he loved and was close to die, the heavy burden of being a hero…but not Dick. He kept on going, with a smile on his lips and laughter in his eyes.

Wally had no idea that Dick was thinking something along very similar lines.

Dick was always impressed with the speedsters' never-ending optimism. Wally had never had the easiest life, considering his rough childhood, but one would never guess that just by seeing him. All they would see was a bright smile and an infectious laugh, because he had learned how to truly recover and heal. Maybe that was the reason the speedster rarely suffered from nightmares. He was able to put things behind him, to not let them drag him down, at least not forever. Dick wished he had the same gift to always be able to see the light in a dark situation, no matter how dim it seemed. Even now, when he was forced to give up running, something that meant a lot to him, he was able to remember that it was only temporary. He was able to smile and wave it away with a laugh, something that never failed to amaze Dick.

Their trains of thought were interrupted by the sound of a warm, familiar voice echoing up the stairs. "Boys? Dinner's ready!" Aunt Iris called.

Wally's face lit up immediately, and his hands shot out to grab the crutches. In his haste, he accidentally pushed them over and instinctively went to catch him. Unfortunately, that meant he lunged a bit too far and fell off the bed with a loud, rather impressive thud.

Dick really couldn't help himself as he started to laugh. It was a welcome distraction from their heavy, serious conversation, plus seeing Wally sprawled out awkwardly on the floor was honestly funny.

Wally grumbled under his breath as he picked himself up off the floor, shooting Dick a mock glare. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he muttered, extending a hand. "Help me up?"

Dick obliged, taking the speedster's hand and pulling him up. "Come on, Kid Klutz. Aunt Iris wants us downstairs," he laughed.

Wally rolled his eyes good-naturedly, grabbing his crutches before following the still chuckling Dick out the door and down the stairs.

* * *

The sky was practically pitch black, even the wane light of the moon blocked by oppressive clouds. It sent heavy shadows creeping across the lawn, inky and ominous. A distinct chill permeated the air, seeming foreboding and sinister in its frigidity. The temperature didn't bother the dark figure lurking near the window, or if it did, he didn't show any outward sign of it. In fact, a twisted smile adorned his face, the glint of pale teeth in the moonlight almost menacing. The expression, originally meant to be friendly and open, instead displayed an evil satisfaction that would chill anyone to their core.

He stared through the window, satisfied with the view his vantage point offered. From here, he could see the living room, illuminated with the fuzzy glow of a television screen left on. Two figures were sprawled out on its cushions, the others having left hours ago, eyes closed and breathing even. Even from this distance, he could easily recognize Subjects 401 and 402, everything from their height to their hair color confirming that they were indeed his targets.

It was amazing, how peacefully they could sleep even with the knowledge of the danger hanging over their heads. Of course, everything up until now was just the tip of the iceberg. They could never even imagine what was coming, and their hunter wanted it to stay that way. An unsuspecting target was one whose guard would be down, which made his job much easier.

His smirk widened; the expression was even more sinister in its intensity. Perfect.

Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

**A/N **Yes, we finally get to see some of the real action! I have been waiting this for a _long_ time, guys. And I promise not to take as long to post the next chapter either (well, I promise to _try_...)

We also have another character making appearance, other than this mysterious villain. ^^ I think you guys will enjoy him.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

fanficfantasies: That's okay. ;) And is it weird that I had to go back and re-read Fugitive myself? You think I'd be able to remember my own story better, lol. ;) Thanks for the review!

News Updater: Thanks for the update! I tend to forget to check things sometimes, so it's actually really helpful. ^^

Guest: So sorry for the wait! I finally updated though! ^^


	13. Explosion

**A/N **Thanks to my _fantastic _betas, caylender and Sairey13! ^^ They are seriously amazing. And thanks to all of my reviewers to getting Victim past the 200 mark! You guys are the best.

Did you know I've been working on this story for a little over a year now? Yep, Fugtive/Victim have finally had their first anniversary. ^^ It's a little hard to believe I've been writing this for so long now; all I know is I definitely wouldn't have gotten here if not for my readers. Thanks again to everyone!

~Aiva

* * *

Roy was physically exhausted, aching muscles eager to climb into his nice warm bed. It had been a long night, lasting right up until the crack of dawn, full of burly thugs and even a few super villains. Green Arrow had joined in on those fights, not that Roy had asked. Their relationship was improving _slightly _but not that much. Anyway, the redheaded archer was fully prepared to collapse and catch a few z's before the sun really started shining.

Unfortunately, his mind seemed to disagree with his tired body. This was a problem Roy actually ran into a lot; he would always be drained after a fight, but his mind was still very much awake, energized with the buzz of lingering adrenaline.

Roy let out an irritated huff, plopping himself down on his battered old couch and turning on his small television. He changed it to a random news channel, hoping the drone of the reporter's voice might lull him to sleep. Instead, he jerked upright as a _very _familiar face flashed across the screen. He cursed out loud, not even bothering to do it under his breath this time. What the heck was Dick doing on the news?! He turned the volume up, an odd mixture of frustration and concern coursing through him.

"_-Richard Grayson-Wayne, ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne, was nearly kidnapped yesterday morning. The Flash came to his rescue, but the identity of Richard's assailants remain unknown. In other news-"_

Roy cursed again, hunting for a clock to check what time it was. He ended up pulling out his phone, the digital numbers winking back at him: 5:57 a.m. Good. Alfred would probably be awake by now…he never seemed to sleep at all, actually, at least not that Roy had seen.

The archer grabbed his quiver, slinging it over his shoulder as a precaution. The news may have said Flash took care of the kidnappers for now, but Roy wasn't taking any chances, not when it came to his little brother's safety. Poor kid had been through way too much as it was.

Roy rushed out the door and to the nearest zeta tube, his exhaustion somehow forgotten as he focused on his little brother.

* * *

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

The repeated noise roused Wally from his sleep, and he woke up with a startled cry, arms flailing as he instinctively tried to shove himself into an upright position. He somehow ended up hitting the floor, groaning as it jostled his wounded leg. His muffled sound of pain woke up Dick, whose eyes shot wide open as his fists rose up to protect his face instinctively.

Wally shot his friend a mild glare when he started laughing, struggling to haul himself up into a standing position. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, "It's not _that _funny."

_Thud. Thud. Thud._

The noise started up again, and it took Wally a few seconds to recognize the sound as someone knocking at the door. Well, knocking was a bit of a stretch; it was more of a repeated, very violent banging. "Who the heck would be at the door?" he grumbled. It was _way_ too early to be _awake, _much less having to dealing with this, at least in his opinion.

A muffled voice could just barely be heard shouting through the wooden door. "If you don't open this thing in ten seconds, I swear I'm going to break it down!"

Dick and Wally glanced at each other. "It's Roy," they said simultaneously.

Dick got up to open the door since Wally was still struggling to get his crutches properly underneath him. He opened it, and was immediately met with a very angry archer.

"Richard John Grayson! Stop getting yourself kidnapped! I swear, is it too much to ask that you stay out of trouble for _one day?! _Do you have any idea how worried I was? I had to go all the way up to the Manor, only to find out you weren't there, and then I had to come here, none of which I would've had to do if you would just stop attracting every single thug and villain in Gotham!" Roy ranted, hair slightly messed up and bow clutched in his hand.

Wally had finally made his way over to the door by that point and was watching, thoroughly amused. "Why didn't you just call him?" he asked, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Because I didn't want to waste time, that's why! It's perfectly normal to want to see someone face-to-face after they've nearly been kidnapped for the thousandth time!"

"That means he didn't think of it," Wally whispered loudly in Dick's ear. The thirteen-year-old tried to disguise his snicker as a cough but failed. Roy glared at the two before pulling them both into ferocious noogies that Wally swore almost made their heads burst into spontaneous flames.

"Ouch, Roy!" Dick protested, trying to wriggle out of the tight grip.

"Come on! We have enough injuries as it is!" Wally complained.

Roy finally stopped, then focused his glare solely on Wally. "And you!" he seethed, pointing a finger at the speedster. "What the heck happened to you? I leave you guys alone for one measly day and you end up _crutches?! _Do you guys actively seek out trouble or something? That's it! I'm talking Bruce and Barry into putting those tracers into you both, because this is getting insane!"

Wally and Dick stared at him silently for a minute before the burst into unrestrained laughter, Dick actually doubling over. "We know you care about us and all, but that was just too funny," Wally gasped after he had some semblance of control.

Roy's glare softened, and he ruffled the speedster's hair. "That being said, are you guys okay?" he asked.

"Pretty much," they answered simultaneously.

Roy stared at them for a second before shaking his head. "You two have got to stop doing that whole speaking together thing," he commented, "It's getting weird."

Dick smirked in response while Wally stuck his tongue out immaturely. Anything that might have been said was interrupted by the heavy thud of footsteps coming down the stairs. Barry emerged first, shirt askew and hair suffering from some serious bedhead. Bruce followed, a taser held ready in his hand. "We heard shouting," Barry blurted out.

"Are you hurt?" Bruce checked immediately, glancing over his ward with obvious concern.

The three teenagers froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond, gazes locked on the taser.

"Bruce, it's okay," Dick said slowly, fighting a grin. "It's just Roy."

The older vigilante glared at the archer for a minute more, clearly disgruntled. He replaced the taser back in the yellow utility belt sloppily slung around his waist. It was an interesting combination with his silk pajama pants, and it took everything Wally and Dick had not to burst out into raucous laughter. Roy had slightly more self-control, but that didn't stop the amused smirk from tugging at the corners of his lips.

It was then that Iris chose to come down the stairs; her timing was excellent because Wally was fairly certain he would explode if he tried to hold in his laughter any longer. Dick looked like he would do the same. Iris took a minute to glance around, taking in the scene before she wisely decided not to question what exactly was going on. "I'm going to make some breakfast," she informed everyone instead. She gave Roy a warm smile. "Roy, would you like to stay and eat?"

Roy normally wouldn't be all that comfortable with accepting; he really didn't like intruding on other people, mainly preferring solitude. But he liked Iris, and Wally and Dick were basically giving him puppy dog eyes. It was practically impossible to refuse. "Yes…thank you," he added awkwardly, barely remembering what little manners he actually bothered to learn in the first place.

Iris gave him a reassuring smile. "Nice to see you again, Roy," she said before exiting to the kitchen.

A slight beeping filled the air only moments later, and Barry and Bruce simultaneously reached up to press the button in their comm. links. "Emergency alert at the Watchtower," Bruce growled, upon seeing Dick's confused look.

Barry instead flashed Wally a reassuring grin. "Tell Iris to save some breakfast for me, okay kid?"

"You got it, Uncle Barry," Wally nodded, grinning right back at him.

Dick badly wanted to be able to come along, but he knew Bruce would never allow it. Besides, Cadmus was still on the prowl, and with Wally's leg injured, he needed to stick with his best friend. Bruce could handle it…that's what Dick tried to assure himself, anyway. "Be safe, okay?" he asked quietly, meeting his guardian's gaze.

Bruce nodded, and his face softened, which was all the answer Dick needed. The Dark Knight then disappeared from view, the bat-shaped shadow that appeared moments later the only sign of where he had gone. Barry's grin widened as he popped open his ring, pulling on his costume in a blur. "Back in a Flash!" he joked before racing out the door after Bruce.

"Boys?" Iris called from the kitchen. "Why don't you help set the table?"

Wally groaned, and Dick scowled at the speedster playfully. "He _means _we'd be happy to help!" the acrobat answered. Wally stuck his tongue out in response, and Roy rolled his heads, thumping them both lightly on the back of the head as he walked towards the table.

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, the table was set, and the food was ready. Wally, of course, was already piling food eagerly on to his plate. Iris smiled and kissed the top of his head. "I have to head to work now. You boys behave, alright?" she said.

"We will, Aunt Iris," Dick assured. Wally could only nod his agreement since his mouth was already stuffed full of bacon. Roy met her gaze briefly before nodding as well. "I'll keep them out of trouble," he promised.

"It's not like we _try _to grab every villain's attention," Wally pouted, having finally swallowed enough of his bacon to speak.

"Could've fooled me," Roy snorted.

Iris smiled and rolled her eyes a little at their antics before she walked out, leaving the bickering boys behind.

* * *

A figure shrouded in shadows watched through the window, smirking in satisfaction as he saw another person leave. There was still one extra left, but he was certain he could take care of the archer in order to reach his targets.

He pulled an explosive out of his pocket, waiting to make sure the West-Allen woman was out of view before he placed it on the door. He took a step back, smirk widening as it started blinking.

It was time to put the plan into effect.

* * *

Wally had managed to clear his third plate of food in less than two minutes. Dick had started on some toast but had stopped to watch in sick fascination. Roy was still eating, but at a considerably slower rate than the hungry speedster. Wally was just starting to grab some more waffles when he was interrupted by a loud _boom. _

The explosion made the house shake, and the three surprised boys were knocked to the floor. Wally hissed as his leg was jostled, but he still managed to crawl his way over to where Dick was, instinctively moving in front of his best friend and shielding him from whatever attack might come next. Roy struggled to pick himself up off the floor, shaking his head to clear it. A fuzzy figure appeared, his face concealed by the dust still in the air.

All three froze simultaneously when the dust settled.

The figure stood around 6 feet tall, wearing a slightly dirty lab coat. His hair was blonde beneath the gray dust. Burns covered his body; the awful scars stretched across most of his face, but his cold brown eyes were still easily recognized. The temperature in the room seemed to drop dramatically as one name echoed in all of their minds:

Dr. Anthony Lawrence.

* * *

**A/N **Oh my goodness, I have wanted to write this chapter for so long. Ever since I killed Dr. Anthony Lawrence in Fugitive...I know there were a lot of breaklines in this chapter, but it was kind of necessary for it to flow right. Hope it wasn't too annoying though.

Next chapter, we get to see how Roy, Dick ,and Wally react to seeing Dr. Anthony Lawrence alive. ^^ That should be fun too.

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Guest 12-22-1200: You introduced your dad to my story? That's awesome! ^^ Seriously, thank you so much!

fanficfantasies: At least I'm not the only one then. ;) Thanks for the review!


	14. Scars

**A/N **And here's the next chapter! :)

~Aiva

* * *

Dick froze, snatches of painful memories flashing through his mind in rapid succession. A feeling of dark and heavy dread settled deep into the pit of his stomach, adrenaline flashing like lightning through his veins. Wide cerulean eyes stared back at the man he had thought to be ash.

_Impossible, _the thirteen-year-old thought, the words a whisper even in his mind, _He's _dead.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the case any longer, even though Dick sorely wished it was. Time seemed frozen for a moment as he stared at the evil scientist in shock, his mind still struggling to process this horrifying revelation.

Roy managed to situate himself in front of both Wally and Dick, cursing himself for not having a bow on hand. He had set it aside, foolishly believing he wouldn't need it…of course, no one had predicted _this. _The archer glanced around with determined blue eyes, frantically searching for a way to escape. They weren't ready to deal with this, not right now. Wally was still injured, Dick wasn't moving yet, and Roy didn't have a bow. They were in over their heads for sure, but there was _no_ way Roy was letting this creep get his hands on his little brothers again, not after last time.

For a minute, Wally's heart seemed to stop, and his breath caught in his throat. An awful sick feeling coursed through him as he realized that Dr. Anthony Lawrence was very much alive. It was no illusion; he was there, and Wally honestly didn't want to think about what the scientist wanted.

Just as quickly though, anger crashed over him, tinting his vision red with rage. _"You killed her!" _he shouted, and his throat stung immediately because of how _loud _and _furious _it was, a chilling yell that was full of obvious pain. _"You killed her and you tortured my best friend!" _His eyes narrowed as he balled his hands into tight fists, gritting his teeth at the same time.

All Wally could see was Dr. Anthony Lawrence's scarred and burned face while images flashed through his mind; Hope's weak, sad smile as she said goodbye, Dick's haunted blue eyes and bruised and bloodied skin, the flames licking at the walls as Hope burned… No words came this time, just a grieved, angry shout full of raw emotion. Wally lunged forward, rage allowing him to briefly forget his injured leg as he slipped into super speed. He poured all of his heartache and fury into one powerful punch that knocked the scientist back a few feet.

Dr. Anthony Lawrence, however, quickly regained his balance, only grinning in response as he pulled out a sleek silver gun. "I didn't feel a thing," he smirked, before his eyes narrowed, insanity flickering briefly in their brown depths. "You see, _Wallace_, when 287 caught Cadmus on fire, I managed to escape into one of the many hidden rooms there, built for emergencies such as that. I survived, but not without severe burning, as you can see." He actually chuckled then, the sound chilling all three of the young vigilantes to their bones.

"The burns were so severe, in fact, that I can barely feel anything there anymore. It took me months to be able to even move again. _Months." _The smile was gone now, replaced by a cold hatred that was just as terrifying. "You ruined everything, so now I will ruin you. I will make you hurt, bleed, scream, and cry. I will cause you so much _pain _you will _beg _me to end it, in any way necessary." The mirthless chuckle came back, full of sick, twisted pleasure. "And I'll keep going, until I've broken you completely. Then I'll kill you, as slowly as I can." He paused, staring at Dick and Wally with cold eyes. "And I'll enjoy every single moment."

Dr. Anthony Lawrence had been frightening before, but this…this was a whole new level. Before, at least, he had been rational. But now he was insane, apparently having gone off the deep end long ago.

Wally felt uncertainty and fear start to trickle through the thick walls of anger he had built up; never had he faced a villain like this. Central City's Rogues weren't half as dark or twisted, and he had never been to Gotham long enough to have really faced a big baddie there. The young speedster didn't know what to do, other than the one thought that remained clear in his mind: _Keep Dick away from him._

"You're insane," Wally snarled, his tone much colder and harsher than he had ever made it before. "You're not going to hurt either one of us again."

The scientist chuckled again, the sound chilling. "Wallace, you don't stand a chance at stopping me."

"Yeah?" Roy growled, a scowl set firmly on his face. "Well, I _do." _He pointed his bow at the insane villain, having used the distraction to retrieve his precious weapon. An arrowhead glinted menacingly from where it was loaded on to the string, aimed without hesitation at Dr. Anthony Lawrence's chest.

Dick stood behind him, a utility belt hanging now in view around his waist and a pair of birdarangs clenched in his fists. "I swear, if you _ever_ hurt him I will personally track you down and make you wish you were _never born."_ His voice was icy and anger was making his heart pound, but he didn't have time for any more words. Knowing this was the best opportunity he was going to get, he threw the batarangs directly at his target.

The scientist shot one out of the air before it had the chance to make contact, but the second one slammed into his shoulder, the razor edges biting into his flesh. The weapon gave a gentle beep once before gray smoke poured out of it, filling the room immediately.

Dick wasted no time in rushing over to Wally's side to support the injured speedster while Roy braced his other side. They raced as quickly as they could towards the open doorway, the actual door blown to pieces. They managed to make it to a zeta tube, silently thanking Batman that one was so close to the house; there was no way they would've made it otherwise. Roy hastily punched in the first coordinates he could think of: a safe house he and Green Arrow had set up in Star City a long while back.

The yellow light whisked them away to safety, depositing them in an alleyway.

Roy reached out with his free hand and pressed his fingertips against a particular brick. _"Recognized. Red Arrow B-06," _a computer called out, beeping in acceptance before a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a metal door. Roy pushed that open, ushering his two younger brothers inside and slamming it shut behind them.

For a minute, there was nothing but a heavy silence that no one seemed willing to break. Then Dick let out a frustrated cry and slammed his fist into the nearest wall, producing a loud _thud. _Roy winced, glad those walls were reinforced; they'd surely be cracked otherwise. "He's supposed to be _dead!" _the acrobat practically shouted, blue eyes burning with emotion.

Wally let out a small groan from the seat he had managed to get to as soon as he had entered the hidden bunker. His leg was finally starting to bother him now that they were safe and most of the adrenaline was wearing off, but it didn't bother him nearly as much as knowing that Hope's killer and the source of Dick's nightmares for the past two months was still out there, alive and bent on torturing and then killing them.

Roy attempted to place a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, but Dick shrugged him off, almost angrily. "Dick-" he attempted.

"Don't," the Boy Wonder interrupted, clenching his hands into fists. "Just don't."

Roy sighed and Wally remained silent. "I'm going to get in contact with Bruce and Barry," the archer finally said, "Give them the heads up. Okay?"

Dick mutely nodded, the sudden lump in his throat making it difficult to speak.

Wally sensed this immediately, and gestured for his best friend to walk closer. "Come here, Birdy," he said, voice a lot softer and hoarse. Dick hesitated before complying, managing to squish into the tiny spot next to the speedster. Wally wrapped an arm around Dick automatically, drawing the kid closer as he rubbed his back soothingly. Anger set aside for the moment, they were both emotionally exhausted; they needed a chance to recuperate and get their thoughts in order, simply taking comfort from each other's presence for the moment.

* * *

Bruce was absolutely furious upon arriving at the Watchtower and discovering there was no real emergency after all. He had been forced to leave his son for absolutely nothing. He immediately went over to nearest computer and started typing in strings of code, searching for whatever virus had forced the alert system to glitch. The search itself took fifteen minutes, since he decided to update the system at the same time to ensure nothing like this ever happened again.

Bruce's frown deepened as he stared at the screen, thoroughly confused for a few seconds. There was no virus, no plausible reason that there would've been an accidental alert sent out to him and Barry. Unless…

His eyes widened fractionally and he pressed his comm.-link, tuning into Barry's specific channel. "Flash, meet me at the zetas now," he ordered. How could he have been so stupid?! The only way this could've happened is if someone with a lot of resources and skill had hacked it. And since Barry and Bruce had been the only ones to get the alert…well, it was fairly obvious Cadmus had planned the whole thing to separate them from their boys.

Bruce rushed towards the zeta tube himself, praying silently that he wouldn't arrive too late. He refused to lose his son a second time to Cadmus. Unsurprisingly, Barry was at the zetas first; the only time that man was ever on time was when his nephew was in danger. "Bruce, what's going-?" the speedster started.

"It was a trick," Bruce interrupted, his voice a growl. "Cadmus wanted to get Dick and Wally alone." _And they succeeded, _he added in his head.

Barry's eyes widened, and he quickly punched in coordinates, hoping that when they got there Wally would still be okay.

* * *

They were back in Central City in seconds, and Barry didn't hesitate before grabbing Bruce's arm and dragging the Dark Knight behind him as he used his super speed to reach his house quickly. Normally, Bruce would've complained, but now was not the time. Right now his boy needed him.

Barry sucked in a sharp breath upon seeing his door; well, what _used_ to be his door, anyway. Now it was just a blackened hole where the solid piece of wood used to be, clearly blown up somehow. Barry dashed inside, closely followed by Bruce. Rubble coated the ground, gritty dust crunching beneath his boots as he investigated his house. "Kid?" he called out desperately. "Wally?!"

There was nothing but eerie silence.

Barry turned to Bruce, shoulders slumped and mouth drawn firmly into a frown. "They're gone," he stated unnecessarily.

Bruce's eyes narrowed when he saw a birdarang lodged firmly into the wall. "Though not without a fight," he responded. Inside, he was panicking. His son had just been kidnapped _again, _and he hadn't been able to do a thing about it!

His comm.-link buzzed then, alerting him to an incoming message. Bruce really wasn't in the mood to deal with this and was tempted just to ignore it, but he paid intent attention when it was Roy's voice that came through the speakers. "Bruce? Barry?" the archer asked, checking to see if the connection had worked.

"We're here," Barry answered. "Where are you guys? Are you hurt? Wally's okay, right?"

"Barry, slow down," Bruce instructed. "Roy, continue." He secretly wanted to act the same as the speedster was right then, but doing so wouldn't help him find Dick any faster, and that was his priority.

"Right. We were attacked by Dr. Anthony Lawrence."

"_What?!" _Barry all but shrieked, voice incredibly loud. "But he's d-"

"That's what we thought too," Roy interrupted. "We thought wrong. I don't know where he is now. Dick and Wally are safe; we're in one of the safe houses in Star."

"We're on our way."

* * *

**A/N **Yeah, they got away_ this_ time. Of course, now they have _two _people after them... Fun times. ^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

MysteryGuest: I updated! ^^ And don't worry; there will definitely be a lot more Wally whump in this story than there was in Fugitive. Thanks for the review!

Don'tWalkUpStairsBackwards: No problem! I understand completely; I barely have time to review anything anymore myself. It is nice to hear from you again though. ^^ And it's okay; I'm sort of sadistic with Dick and Wally too. Well, more like a lot sadistic. ;) Thanks for the review!

fanficfantasies: I've decided to take the fact that I'm scaring you as a compliment, lol. ;) Roy will be playing a bigger part than he did last time, but as of right now, I'm still not sure exactly how big of a part that will be. I guess we'll just have to find out. ^^ Thanks for the review!


	15. Hiding

**A/N **Sorry for taking a little longer than usual! I got busy and then I was trying to work some of the kinks out of this story. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

Wally glanced over at Dick, emerald eyes meeting cerulean. He _knew _he should say something to comfort his best friend; after all, they had just seen the supposed dead come back, promising revenge. But at the same time…he wanted to be comforted too. He had just had the man who had killed Hope - his little sister, tortured Dick – his little brother, and threatened his loved ones come _back to life _and point a gun at him, all the while vowing to kidnap them both and torture them to the brink of death.

He was shaken, especially by the realization that in reality there was very little he could do to defend himself or Dick; his leg was throbbing horribly now from his wound, which had been aggravated by him running on it earlier. Wally could already feel fresh blood starting to seep out of the white bandage, dripping down his leg. He wouldn't be able to run for _two weeks. _Those pitiful few miles he had ran, far less than the distance he usually traveled, had been enough to break open the barely healing wound. What use was he if he couldn't even run?

Wally took a deep breath. Uncle Barry was coming, which meant he'd probably be receiving all the hugs and comforting words he'd need in just a little while. In the meantime, his little brother was dealing with actually seeing his tormentor alive and in the flesh; Dick _still_ looked a bit shell-shocked. Wally still wanted someoneto see how sick and upset he felt, but his friend was more important at the moment; Dick was always more important.

"Dick," Wally started, his quiet voice seeming far too loud in the quiet bunker, "Don't pay any attention to what he said. I swear I won't let it happen." He would rather die than see Dick have to go through that type of pain ever again.

_I don't think you can stop him, _Dick pointed out silently, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud. Wally was trying, and Dick could tell the speedster needed reassurances just as much as he did. So the ebony-haired teenager forced a weak, tiny smile, leaning into the embrace further. "I know," he responded. "Thanks, Wally." Hopefully, that would at least make Wally feel like he had accomplished something; there was no point in making his friend worry more if there was nothing he could do about it.

Roy shook his head, seeing through both of their deceptions easily. It wasn't hard; all of their emotions were clear in their eyes, displayed like an open book for all the world to see. He walked over to them without any hesitation, and while he couldn't exactly fit in the chair with them, he did manage to pull them both into a warm, secure hug. "Listen, both of you," he demanded, though his voice remained soft. "This guy has been beaten before. We can and we _will _do it again."

There was much more he wanted to say, but he didn't really know how. Roy wasn't exactly the best with words, not when they had to do with comforting and healing. Angry rants he could do, but this? This definitely wasn't his forte. Hopefully what he said would do the trick though; his younger brothers definitely needed the reassurance. Goodness knows they'd been through far too much already.

A silence filled the air after he spoke, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was a very comfortable type of silence, one where a mutual understanding existed that they all needed to take a step back and simply breathe before gathering themselves to face whatever would happen next. It probably would've lasted for a long time if a quiet alert didn't warn them of someone trying to get inside.

Roy let go immediately as Dick and Wally tensed automatically, a force of habit that had ended up saving their lives multiple times. The archer walked over to the computer monitors, pulling up the camera feed that showed outside. Barry and Bruce's faces, though blurred by static, were unmistakable, and the mood in the room lightened slightly. Roy entered a short string of code to open the entrance and allow the older vigilantes to enter. Bruce and Barry wasted no time, rushing into to safe house.

Barry, unsurprisingly, was the first to get inside, racing over to his nephew at super speed. He glanced over Wally with anxious blue eyes, wincing sympathetically when he noticed the few drops of blood spattered on the ground next to his injured leg. It was the emotion in the kid's face that really made Barry's heart ache though; Wally looked almost angry, but sadder than anything. A spark of fear flitted behind the veil of those emotions, and it was seeing that spark made Barry pull him into a hug that was probably tighter than strictly necessary.

Barry couldn't deny the giddy rush of relief that coursed through him as he was able to hold his nephew, safe and relatively healthy, in his arms. "Oh, Wally," he murmured into his boy's messy hair. "I promise, everything will be okay." That might not happen immediately, but Barry was determined to make sure he never got hurt again. He would make sure everything was okay; he would _make_ that happen.

Bruce wasn't that far behind the elder speedster, moving over to his adoptive son as fast as humanly possible. He dropped all of the hard masks Batman put up and allowed the protective, concerned father inside to shine through. He studied Dick carefully for a moment to make sure he hadn't become anymore injured than he was before; there were a few minor scrapes and bruises, but nothing major, other than the emotional damage that had surely been done. "Dick," he said quietly, taking relief just from being able to say his son's name while the lad was largely unharmed.

He didn't even have to move forward, Dick just reached out his arms and pulled the Dark Knight into a tight hug that spoke of a clear desperation and need for the comfort and reassurance only a father could provide. "He's _alive, _Bruce," Dick said, voice slightly hoarse. "He's supposed to be dead."

"I know," Bruce soothed, running a hand through the thirteen-year-old's dark hair comfortingly. "But I promise won't let him hurt you, Dickie-bird."

Roy cleared his throat to get their attention. He really did hate to ruin the moment, but there were things that needed to be taken care of as soon as possible in order to insure Dick and Wally's safety. "How exactly are we going to deal with this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "There are two people out to get them now, and they know where they live. Where do they go until we take these guys down?"

Dick, though grateful for this new subject to focus on, frowned as he pulled away from Bruce slightly. "I get laying low for a bit and regrouping," he started slowly, "but let me say this now; I'm not going to sit around while you go out and fight _my_ battles. These guys are chasing me and Wally, which means we have a right to be part of this."

"No," Bruce said immediately, shaking his head firmly. "These people are dangerous and I'm not letting you put yourself in danger any more than you already have."

"So is Joker and Two-Face, but I still go out and fight them!" Dick argued, temper rising. "You can't protect me from every single thing in this world, Bruce! This is _my _fight and I _will _be a part of it, whether you like it or not!"

"Absolutely not," Bruce snapped back, fixing his adopted son with a stern glare that would make most cower. Dick merely met it with a fiercely defiant look of his own, fists clenching at his sides as his body became rigid. "I'm not going to risk losing you again."

Dick realized that Bruce was only doing this because he loved him, and it was that thought alone that made the acrobat take a deep breath and struggle to control his frustration. "I know you're worried," he continued after a moment, voice a little quieter. "But you _know _I can handle this. I was trained by the best." A tiny smile tugged at one corner of his lips at that statement before he went on. "It's not going to be like last time."

Bruce could recognize those words as ones he had said. He didn't appreciate them being used against him, but he could see where Dick was coming from. Still, there was no way he was going to give his boy permission to go out there and fight those people. "Dick," he started, trying to keep his voice softer in hopes that would get him to listen, "I trust you. You know that. But I can't risk anything happening to you. They've proved they're not to be underestimated ever since that first fire at Cadmus. I won't let you endanger yourself again by allowing you to be in a position where they can take you."

"Bruce, you can't stop me," Dick pointed out. His tone wasn't rude or argumentative this time; it just sounded like he was stating a fact, which he was. "Short of keeping me unconscious and locked up until you magically find a way to beat them, I'm going to find a way to go and fight them. I can't risk them doing anything to _you _either. The longer I do nothing, the more likely it is they'll do something. I can't just sit back and let you try to fight them. I _can't."_

Wally looked at his uncle and then at Dick, shifting positions to be closer to the acrobat. "You can't stop either of us," he put in. "No matter how much danger it puts us in, it's our job to stop them before they can hurt anyone, right? That's what we signed up for, and we aren't going to stop just because they've already hurt us once. We might as well quite being heroes completely if we did that, and that isn't going to happen."

Honestly, Bruce _was _tempted to lock Dick up somewhere in a very secure, remote location until he was certain the threat had been neutralized. But at the same time, Bruce knew that wouldn't happen. There really was no stopping the kid, it seemed, and he had no choice but to give in. "Fine," he growled, reluctance and unhappiness clear. "But we _will _be moving you both to a secure location until we can come up with an actual plan."

"Wait, I'm still not happy with this," Barry protested.

"Uncle Barry, I'm sorry, but I have to do this," Wally said, his determination clear and unwavering.

"I just…don't want to lose you," Barry argued weakly.

"You won't," Wally assured. "I promise." The elder speedster didn't say anything, but Wally could tell he had admitted defeat.

"Now that we have that settled," Dick interjected after a moment, "Where are we going to go? The manor and Wally's house have both been compromised."

"Dr. Anthony Lawrence has already hacked the Watchtower," Bruce frowned. "I assume Mount Justice is no longer secure either."

"I have other safe houses in Star," Roy added, "But if the Watchtower has already been hacked, there's no telling how much he knows. Nowhere is really safe."

"Then we'll have to drop off the grid completely," Dick deduced. "Go somewhere even he can't follow."

"What if we hide in plain sight?" Wally suggested. He got an odd look, but he went on, purposely ignoring them. "Seriously. People tend to overlook the most obvious things because they expect the other person to think of something more complex. I'm not saying we stay in Central or Gotham, but we don't have to go far either."

"Bludhaven!" Dick blurted out. "It isn't all that far from Gotham, so it'd be easy to transport supplies, but there are tons of abandoned buildings and warehouses we could use to hide out in for a while."

"It's something I'll look into," Bruce nodded. "Until then, stay here. I'll have Alfred pack a bag for you."

"I'll come back in just a bit," Barry said, ruffling his nephew's hair. "Anything specific you need?"

Wally shook his head, and then paused. "Oh! Could you bring the crutches? I dropped them when the front door exploded."

"Sure thing, kiddo," Barry replied easily, before he froze. "The door…exploded," he remembered, a slightly distressed expression flashing across his face. "How am I supposed to tell Iris?!"

"I'm sure she'll figure it out on her own," Wally supplied unhelpfully, grinning a little at his uncle's distraught expression. "Good luck, Uncle Barry."

"Harper, stay here," Bruce instructed. "I assume the walls are all reinforced and secure?"

Roy nodded. "No one will get in unless I authorize it," he assured.

"Good," Bruce nodded. Dick would be safe here for a while, at least. "Dick, I'll be back soon," he added, parental tones filling his voice again.

Dick nodded. "Stay safe, okay?" he checked.

"I will," Bruce promised. The two older heroes left then, the entrance sliding shut behind them, leaving their protégé's alone.

* * *

**A/N **I'm not entirely sure on them going to Bludhaven yet. If you have any suggestions (because I'm definitely open), please leave them in the reviews. Thanks so much! ^^

Anyway, I've realized that Victim is now half the length Fugitive was, and I don't see an end in sight right now either. This story has progressed so much farther than I ever thought I would; I had no idea how big this was going to be when I wrote that first chapter of Fugitive, or how big a response it would get. You guys really are fantastic. I know I've said that before, but only because it's so true. Every review you leave means so much to me!

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

Guest: Thank you so much! :D

MysteryGuest: Happy birthday! ^^ Well...belated birthday by now, but still. ;) Thanks for the review!

fanficfantasies: It'll be made clearer later on, but Dr. Anthony Lawrence isn't working with Cadmus anymore. That's why there's two people after them. ^^ Thanks for the review!


	16. Laughter

**A/N **I think I'm a day or two later than I had originally planned, but you have a new chapter now! It's a filler, but there should be more action coming up pretty soon. ^^

~Aiva

* * *

The thick door slid shut with a clang that echoed through the air, the metal sound heavy and surprisingly loud. Dick glanced at Wally as soon as their mentors left, determination glinting in his cerulean eyes. "You know they're going to keep trying to talk us out of this," he stated, voice quiet and firm.

Wally shrugged. "Yeah, but they still can't stop us," he pointed out. "I think we've proved that already."

"I don't want you guys out there either," Roy interrupted them, crossing his arms as he fixed the two with a stern look. "It's not a good idea. You _know _how dangerous they are."

"That's exactly why we have to do it," Dick responded without missing a beat.

Wally quickly jumped in to explain, having the exact same thoughts as his best friend, as usual. "These guys have already proved they're willing to target other people to get to us. I mean, look at what happened last time; they went as far as to inject two big-time members of the League with nano-probes! If we sit around and wait for Bruce and Uncle Barry to fix everything – which, let's face it, won't happen for a while – we're just putting other people in danger. We can't risk that happening."

"But if you don't stay under the radar, then there's a good chance they'll get you," Roy argued, even though he knew it was pointless. His younger brothers could be incredibly stubborn when they wanted to be. Still, he had to at least _try _and talk them out of this.

Wally gave him a strange look, as though the answer to the statement was absurdly obvious. And to the speedster, it was. "Roy, if it's a choice between me and someone else, I'll put them before me every single time," he responded.

"We're heroes, dude," Dick interjected. "It's what we do."

Roy stared at them for a moment before huffing out a small sigh, shoulders slumping slightly. "I really can't talk you guys out of this, can I?" he asked rhetorically. They both shook their heads, perfectly in sync, and the archer couldn't help the ghost of a smirk that tugged at his lips. "Then I need you both to promise me something, right now," he continued, voice dropping as his tone became much more serious. "Don't be stupid about this. Just because you want to track them down doesn't mean you can't think things through. Don't do anything that will put you at any more of a risk of getting taken again."

They could all hear the unspoken words at the end: _I don't think I'd be able to handle it if I lost either of you._

"We'll be okay," Wally promised, repeating the words that had been said to Dick and him many times. It had proven itself true thus far; bad things happened, but it all worked out eventually. They just had to keep going in the meantime.

"We'll be careful," Dick added, quick to reassure the older teenager. "We won't do anything too stupid." He shot a teasing look at Wally. "Well, _I _won't anyway."

There was an awkward pause for a few seconds before Wally finally figured out he was being insulted. "Hey!" he protested, though a good-natured gleam was apparent in his green eyes. "I don't do stupid things!"

Neither Dick nor Roy even bothered responding to that, simply fixing the speedster with a look. Wally grumbled under his breath and crossed his arms, slumping down in the chair as his cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink. Though, he didn't truly mind; actually, he really appreciated the teasing right now.

Maybe most people would think it's weird, that they would joke around in incredibly stressful and dangerous situations. But really, it made perfect sense. What better way to distract yourself from impending doom than by making light of the situation? It was something his aunt had taught him after Wally had run to her, terrified because of the storm outside and a horror movie he had watched without permission. There was always something good, something to laugh about, in every single situation no matter what. And by finding it, the bad things weren't nearly as scary anymore. So the joking around made Wally _braver, _in a way, and he knew it did the same for Dick. There was a reason they did it so often, after all.

With that in mind, Wally immediately sought for some type of joke he could say to lighten the mood further. "Hey, Dick?" he said after a pause, almost randomly.

"Yeah?"

"We need IHOP." Okay, that wasn't a joke at all, but in Wally's defense, he was _hungry. _He hadn't gotten to finish his breakfast (he still had at least two more plates to go before he was anywhere close to being done) and the encounter with Dr. Anthony Lawrence had cost him a lot of energy. He would have to refuel, hopefully soon.

Dick gave him an odd look before the reference clicked in his mind. Of all things, he began to laugh. Leave it to Wally to bring up IHOP again as soon as they found out they were on the run from Cadmus yet again. It wasn't that the comment was incredibly funny, but laughing like this was a great stress relief. Besides, Roy's confused expression was so worth it.

The archer had been left out of the whole IHOP reference, not having been there at the time and neither Dick nor Wally talking about it much. So needless to say, he didn't understand why Dick had started laughing as soon as Wally made one mention of the pancake house. "…Am I missing something?" Roy asked slowly.

He didn't get an answer. Instead, Wally joined in on Dick's laughter, the sound seemingly contagious. Roy just shook his head even as he grinned; it was times like these where he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever completely understand those two. Somehow, he doubted it. Still, he couldn't help the few chuckles that slipped out of his own mouth though as tears welled up in Wally's eyes from laughing so hard and Dick doubled over, clutching his abdomen as cackles made his shoulders shake.

Their laughter would appear to settle down for a second, only for it to resume full force a moment later. It did eventually peter out though, leaving the two gasping for breath and all three with lingering smiles on their faces. The happy expressions were totally at odds with the negative situation they were in, but who cared? It felt good to laugh like that every once in a while; it was almost cleansing, in a way.

Roy could feel his curiosity still burning inside of him though. "So, what's the deal with IHOP?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at the younger boys.

They looked at each other and grinned before launching into a rambling explanation, both trying to speak over the other.

"So I was really hungry and all, since we were on the run-"

"-all he could think about were pancakes, so he kept asking to go to IHOP-"

"-I didn't get any for like, _forever-_"

"-we were on the _run_ from Cadmus and all he wanted was _pancakes-"_

"-but we finally got some," Wally finished happily.

Dick glanced at his best friend, grin widening. "Remember that Cadmus lady in the alleyway?" he suddenly asked, trying to stifle his laughter.

"Oh yeah! The hot one, right?" Wally then frowned as he remembered an important detail. "She knocked me out…"

"You kept flirting with her," Dick recalled, amusement obvious as he gave up on trying to keep his laughter in. "And then you said…you said…" He gave up on finishing, words swallowed by cackles and gasps for breath.

Wally apparently understood what the acrobat was trying to say because he started laughing again too. "And then remember? She-"

"That was awesome!" Dick interrupted.

Roy blinked, totally and completely lost by now. He wasn't even sure how _they _knew what they were talking about at this point. Not that it was unusual for Wally and Dick; the two sometimes spoke simultaneously, for goodness' sakes. It really wasn't all that surprising that they were on the exact same page.

"Sophie and Grant!" Wally blurted suddenly.

"Grant thought Batman was better," Dick grinned, pleased when he saw Wally's responding frown before the speedster perked back up.

"Yeah? Well, Sophie thought Flash was cooler!" he argued.

"So? Hey, remember Asher?"

"'Course I do! I hit him with a car!"

"Wait," Roy interrupted. He had been content to stay out of the conversation thus far, but he _had_ to step in here. "You _ran over_ a person?"

"It was a cat," Wally explained between laughs. "Dick bandaged him up and we gave him to that little kid."

"And the guy that looked like Alfred," Dick added.

"Almost forgot about him," Wally grinned. He paused for a moment before continuing. "…Didn't you push me out of a train?"

"At least I didn't want to hitch-hike!"

"Oh please! That worked out _great!"_

Roy stared at them yet again before simply shaking his head. "Sometimes I worry about you two," he said conversationally.

"We know," they answered simultaneously, with identical grins on their faces.

Roy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. His brothers were crazy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

Bruce came back within ten minutes, Barry following a few minutes later. They couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of them (well, Barry smiled. One corner of Bruce's lips twitched, but that was pretty much the equivalent of a wide grin for him).

Wally was on the ground laughing, and Dick looked like he would collapse shortly just from giggles. The two were chattering on excitedly as if nothing was wrong in the world, while Roy watched with slight confusion etched on his face and a fond smile.

"We're back!" Barry called out, seeing that his nephew wasn't going to notice him on his own anytime soon.

Wally glanced over, fighting to stop laughing as he greeted his mentor. "Hey…Uncle Barry…" he managed to get out, a wide grin still plastered on his face.

Dick was only slightly more composed, but not by much. "Hi, Bruce," he laughed, mirth shining in his baby blue eyes.

Bruce, though slightly concerned for the mental health of his adoptive son, was glad to see Dick cheerful again. He walked closer to the lad, ruffling his dark hair affectionately as he set the suitcase Alfred had packed on the ground. "Hey, chum," he greeted in response.

Dick's grin widened, clearly pleased at the familiar nickname. "So is everything worked out?" he checked.

"I'm still working on specifics," Bruce answered. "It shouldn't take very long, but you'll be spending the night here."

Dick pouted slightly, but he nodded anyway. There wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. "Are you sure I can't just come back to the Manor for tonight?" he asked.

"Cadmus is sure to be watching," Bruce said, shaking his head. He would love to have Dick home, but it simply wasn't safe. Dr. Anthony Lawrence was probably in the area too, after all.

"Okay," Dick agreed reluctantly, not happy about it but understanding why. It was only one night for now. He forced a smile back on to his face as he glanced over at his best friend, who was currently dealing with hugs and reminders from Barry. Trying not to laugh at Wally's predicament, he called out cheerfully, "Hey, Wally! Looks like we'll be having a sleepover!"

"Sweet!" Wally exclaimed, face lighting up at the prospect. He glanced back at his uncle, who had finally finished telling him exactly where the snacks were and how often he should eat them. "Are you guys gonna stay, or is Roy going to?" he asked.

Barry hesitated before answering. "Sorry, kiddo, but I have work tomorrow and we're dealing with a pretty big case. I can't afford to be any later than usual," he apologized. "I'll come and check on you though, and you can call me any time you want."

"It's okay, Uncle Barry," Wally grinned, kind of happy with the elder speedster's mother-hen tendencies. "Does Aunt Iris know I'll be staying here?"

Barry cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "See, about that…she still isn't back from work yet, so I haven't really had the opportunity to tell her…"

Wally stared at him for a second before bursting into loud, unrestrained laughter. "Does she even know that I was nearly kidnapped again? Or that there's a huge hole in the front of her house?" Barry's expression was answer enough and Wally laughed even harder. "Oh man, Aunt Iris is going to kill you!"

"I know," Barry groaned. "You wanna call her instead and tell her?"

"No way!" Wally answered hastily, shaking his head fervently. "I don't want to deal with the wrath of Aunt Iris." He reached out and patted his uncle on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll survive, Uncle Barry. Though you may want to break the news about the door gently…if she got that mad when I accidentally burned a hole in the kitchen table with my chemistry set, she's going to be seriously ticked about the fact that she doesn't have a front door anymore."

Barry groaned yet again, sounding more like a child than an adult as he buried his head in his hands. "I'm so dead," he complained, voice slightly muffled.

"Yeah," Wally agreed. "Good luck."

Dick followed the conversation, deeply amused. He knew how scary Aunt Iris could be though; of course, that made Barry's predicament all the more hilarious. He turned to Bruce. "Are you going to be able to stay?" he asked, even as he guessed the answer on his own.

"I can't," Bruce frowned. "Representatives are coming in from Japan; I need to be there."

"It's okay," Dick shrugged. Although he'd love to have his guardian there, he'd be fine with Roy and Wally. "Besides, it's not like anything bad is going to happen."

Bruce nodded hesitantly, still loathing having to leave. He didn't really have much of a choice though, not this time. "I'll try to come back when I can," he promised. "Until then, don't leave here."

"Got it," Dick nodded, giving him a thumbs-up and his trademark smirk.

"Stay safe, Dick."

* * *

**A/N **I couldn't resist doing a more light-hearted chapter; I needed _something_ to contrast the angst/action/suspense. ;) There's more of the latter coming up though, just a heads up. I have big things in store!^^

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

**Mailbag**

COTK95: I probably will eventually, but as of right now I don't have any good ideas how to do it, and they probably won't have a very big role. Sorry, the ideas just aren't flowing at the moment. ;) Thanks for the review though!

Yuu101cutie: Thanks so much! ^^

Guest: I'm working on it. ;) I wanted a good build up to the real action, but trust me; it's coming. Thanks for the review!

MysteryGuest: I can't wait to write it! ;) Thanks for the review!

fanficfantasies: Hope your foot gets better! Thanks for the review. :)

Don'tWalkUpstairsBackwards: It's alright, I understand how hectic VBS can get (even though it's still a lot of fun). Thanks so much for the review! ^^


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